Sessions
by iyimgrace
Summary: He couldn't get cable but he could get the South Pole in Hi-def. That was seven months ago, before everything fell apart. Now she was there in live HD. Can Dr. Cate Milton heal our wounded doc? Does she really believe he doesn't need to be fixed? You bet.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own House…I wish I did.

_This is my first story for House. It was an idea I had after watching Frozen…wouldn't it be cool if she came back and was able to hold her own with our cranky doc? Since they seem to want to go in a totally opposite direction with Cameron *sadface*… he deserves someone who could handle him._

"You're late."

"And you're annoying, "

"You were supposed to report for clinic duty two hours ago."

"More important things to do."

"Catching up on the latest episode of _Manswers_ is not more important than patients."

"Oh but there's where you are _soooo_ wrong…did you know that you could resuscitate someone with flatulence?"

Cuddy made a face. "No you can't. That's disgusting."

"Oh yes _butt_ … you can, " he laughed out loud at his own joke. "I saw it on _Manswers_."

She shook her head as if to say whatever. "We have over twenty patients in the waiting room and you're two hours late, you owe me two hours tomorrow."

He stops at the nurses' desk to sign in. "Aren't there any other doctors in this hospital you could go annoy into doing clinic duty. Why does it always have to be me?"

"I do have other doctors. But, right now, I'm short one, " she said uneasily. In the mood he was in, she dared not mention Wilson's name.

He glared in her direction and picked up the chart. "Here, why don't you have Dr…. " he paused to decipher the scrawled signature, "Milton… pick up the slack?"

"She is picking up the slack, " Cuddy said with rising irritation as she brought her finger to pinch the headache between her eyes. In the last two month since Wilson had left, House had become increasingly more difficult to deal with. She was either going to kill House or kill Wilson for packing up and leaving her to deal with him alone.

House leaned on his cane and held the chart turning his head quizzically. "Dr. Milton? Who the fuck is Dr. Milton?"

"How soon they forget, " a sarcastic yet sultry voice came up from behind him, "figures you wouldn't even remember my name."

House turned around to examine his accuser; his gaze froze on her dark smirking eyes as recognition slowly began to sink in. Dr. Milton. Dr. Cate Milton, formerly of the South Pole.

"Dr. House, " she said by way of greeting.

"Oh, that Dr. Milton, " he said with exaggerated reminiscence. "Last I heard you were stuck on the ice planet Hoth with a tauntaun as the only means of egress."

The beautiful doctor smiled. "Yeah, they were able to fly the Millennium Falcon in once the winds died down."

"Dr. Milton thank you for covering for Dr. House, he has no excuse for being late, " Cuddy interrupted.

House shifted his weight on his cane and pointed at Cate. "You know she's not a real doctor, right?" He was alluding to her specialty of psychiatry as a misappropriation of the word doctor.

"You know you're not a real human being, right?" Cuddy said slamming a chart against his chest. "Patient with genital blistering, room three, _now_."

House made a disgusted face at Cuddy before she strutted off in the direction of her office. He admired the sway of her rounded hips encased in their tight little skirt as she click-clacked away from him. He shook his head appreciatively; that was always the best part about pissing her off, the huffy retreat. Tearing his eyes away from the disappearing feast he, noticed that Dr. Milton had moved to the other side of the nurses station and was making notes in a chart, presumably the one for the patient she'd just seen. It was a rare view for him, since he never wrote diagnostic notes in his own charts, that's what he had the ducklings for.

Hobbling up along side her, he leaned casually against the counter, just close enough that he crowded out her open folder forcing her to stop writing. "So, what _are_ you doing here?"

Nonplussed by his rudeness, she slid the chart over without looking at him and continued to write. "Last I heard, I was still employed by this hospital."

"But what happened with the South Pole, the climate here in New Jersey's a little warm for you this time of year."

"I was there for research. The research is done. Now I'm home." She closed her file and looked at him.

"Right," he said his eyes searching. "What about the boy wonder? He home too?"

She paused a beat. "No. He's still there."

"Curious, " he said staring at her for a moment. "Still there because he wants to be or because you want him to be?"

"He's just still there." She leveled her gaze at him revealing nothing. He continued his inspection, looking for some kind of tell, a facial tic or involuntary sigh. Nothing.

"Come on Cate, after all we've been through, you can tell me the truth?" he prodded.

"Yeah, we've been through some much together it made you forget my name, " she said sarcastically with a small laugh.

He waved his free hand in the air dismissively. "You were my patient; I never know my patient's names."

"You knew mine, " she reminded pointedly, bring up Wilson's drawing attention to that ironic statistical anomaly during her lymph node biopsy.

He chose to ignore that point. "So Hero Boy's still in the frozen tundra and you're here, _home alone_; that sounds like an interesting story, do tell…"

She clutched a new chart to her chest. "Uh, uh. You know I don't get naked without getting something in return," she said receiving a weird look from the nurse behind the desk. House didn't miss the exchange.

"She's such a dirty whore, _tit_ for tat, I like that, " he said waggling his eyebrows for emphasis. He received a disgusted eye roll from the nurse who promptly moved to the opposite side of the desk to get away from him. It was a typical reaction; he was used to it. Cate on the other hand, shook her head and moved in the direction of her next patient in exam room two. "There's nothing to tell, House."

"By your clipped and non-descript answers, I'll bet there's a whole lot to tell," he said limping after her.

She stopped with the exam door partially open, "You have genital blistering you need to see to. I'm sure a cream and some Valtrex will do the job."

House smiled a sardonic grin at the patient whose eyes were as wide as saucers at the assumption that he was the one who was the owner of the STD. "Cute. She's not a real doctor you know. She's from the psyche ward." He made a circling motion with his finger by his head. "I would get a second opinion on anything she says."

"Dr. House was just leaving, " Cate said pushing him out of the door. "You really are a doctor, right?" He heard the patient ask as the door shut in his face. House smiled to himself. This was certainly the most interesting thing to have crossed his radar in the last two months. Cate from the South Pole was back. The guy who loved her enough to drill a hole in her head was still in the South Pole and the lovely doctor was unwilling to talk about it. That meant that something didn't go well. Which meant that they were no longer together. Which meant that she was a free agent. Interesting, indeed. He'd have to get Lucas, his _private_ _dick_, on the case. He needed more information.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own House… but I wish I did.**

_This one is a little bit shorter but it's a set-up for where I'm going with the next few chapters. BTW… in Frozen, House says that Cate is trapped at the South Pole for the next two months because of high winds. In reality, she'd be trapped there until late October, which messes with my fantasy timeline and how this fits into the beginning of Season 5…so if you're a stickler for "reality" please try to suspend your disbelief._

"She literally _just_ got home from Antarctica," Lucas told House as they entered his office. He folded himself into House's rumpled armchair and plopped his feet on the ottoman. "The first flight they were able to get in was last week. She arrived in Newark on Thursday. Was back to work on Friday."

House limped over to his desk chair and sat down hard. He rubbed at the annoying ache in his thigh before taking two Vicodin. He watched as Lucas took a long sip of coffee from the local Starbucks. "Hey, where's my coffee? What do I pay you for?"

"You pay me to get information on people you don't want to talk to yourself," Lucas responded nonchalantly .

"I pay you to do the shit I don't want to do," he shot back.

"Technically Cuddy's paying me," Lucas reminded him. "Besides, your coffee bitch was Cameron, not me. So I guess you're outta luck." He air-toasted House before taking another sip.

House narrowed his eyes at Lucas and turned his attention to twirling his cane as an aide to his thought process. "So she took the very first flight out. That has to mean there was something going on and she couldn't wait to get outta Dodge. What'd you get on the boyfriend?"

"They boyfriend is pretty straight forward. Mechanic, hard worker, worked for the research company for five years after a tour in the Navy. He's been at ice camp for about a year. Nothing much to write home about."

House stared at the tip of his cane in concentration as he began to bounce it rhythmically off his desk. "Maybe that was it; she was in a relationship of proximity, discovered her hero wasn't all that and a bag of chips and then took off the first chance she got," he surmised leaning back in his chair. "You get anything on why she went in the first place?"

"She's been an adjunct at the hospital for three years; pretty much your routine teaching schedule and counseling sessions. She runs a practice out of the psyche floor. Her secretary's name is Jill. She's pretty hot babe. We've got a date on Friday."

House rolled his eyes. "Great, how am I gonna be able to sneak that little expense under Cuddy's breasts. I'm not paying for your date. And you didn't answer me, _why_ did she go?"

Lucas rose from the chair and came over to the corner of House's desk. "Brace yourself for this one champ. She was having an affair with a married man."

House's eyes widened. He was impressed. She just didn't seem the type. "She's a home wrecker?"

"Not, so much a home wrecker. " Lucas said perching himself on the corner of the desk warranting a jab from House's cane in the tender side of his thigh. Getting up he paced over to the window before continuing, "He was a Professor at the University. They engaged in said affair after he moved out of his marital home but before he and his wife were legally separated."

"Slightly less interesting than home wrecker, " House said.

"It was your stereo-typical, working late hours on the same project. He spear-headed the research on long term human isolation, hence her involvement in both…"

"Yeah, yeah … in both him and the research at the South Pole, I got it, " House finished impatiently.

Lucas shrugged. "Sorry, it was all that was out there."

House contemplated the information Lucas had relayed. She was involved with a man who was technically still married, who sent her to the end of the earth, to which she went to willingly. She then becomes involved with someone else who she then runs away from the first chance she can get. Interesting. _And she said I was projecting when I called her anti-social_. _She was clearly projecting my projecting. As if that makes any sense…_

"You know, you could just talk to her," Lucas said interrupting his thoughts.

"What and skip out on all of this clandestine fun, " House quipped before standing. An idea occurred to him. "Why send in an amateur when there's a professional in the house?"

"You have a plan?" Lucas asked following him.

"I have a plan. And next time, bring me coffee, bitch."


	3. Chapter 3: Grief Counseling

Sessions: Grief counseling

"I can't thank you enough for filling in on clinic duty again, " Lisa Cuddy told Cate for the fourth time that afternoon. Cate smiled and placed her hand on the thin woman's arm.

"It's not a problem, really," Cate assured her. "I was used to the same kind of stuff at the research station, runny noses, backaches and stomach flu, the occasional severed femoral artery. I was the only doctor there, after all, despite what House says."

Cuddy bit down on a sneer, "Ignore him. He makes an art form out of being a chauvinist ass."

Cate laughed at her boss apt description of the man who at the same time annoyed and intrigued her. The two women walked into the cafeteria for a much needed cup of tea after a marathon clinic session had exhausted both of their bedside manners and drained just about all of their energy. "I gathered as much. We sort of came to some kind of mutual truce when he was treating my condition last winter. Although, I think that really only happened after I was unconscious."

"He tends to get along best with people when their comatose and unresponsive, " Cuddy offered her a cup as they made their way through the line to the hot water. "They argue with him less and don't seem to care if her treats them like imbeciles."

"It validates his need to always be right, " Cate said as she opened her mint tea bag and filled her cup with steaming water.

"The problem is that he usually is always right, which just infuriates me even more because it means I can't kill him; he's too good of a doctor for justifiable homicide."

Cate shrugged apologetically. "I can't complain; he saved my life."

The two women wandered over to a table by the window with a view of the turning foliage. The late afternoon sunshine was low in the horizon and cast a warm glow on the table. "I can't image how terrifying that whole experience was for you. To be trapped with no real medical facility and just yourself to rely on. I don't know if I could have done it."

"That was the whole point of the study, " Cate said taking a seat. "The effects of long term isolation on the human psyche are extreme. It takes a resourceful person with a…" she paused searching for the right descriptor, "…a pioneering spirit." _And maybe a little bit of insanity helped_. She turned her head and looked longingly out to the courtyard taking in the deep oranges and yellows of the New Jersey autumn. It had been a long time since she had seen the warmth of color on the landscape. The memory of the grays and whites of the tundra chilled her to the bone.

Cate shivered inadvertently and drew her attention back to the woman in front of her. "So I hear that Dr. Wilson has resigned from the hospital. He lost someone close to him a few months ago?"

Cuddy frowned and twisted her teacup in her hands. She was clearly still at a loss for how to deal with the situation. "It was bus accident. Her name was Amber and she was with House when it happened."

Cate was surprised by the woman's succinct admission. The weightiness with which she said the last part resonated with a significance that Cate didn't quite understand. "What happened?"

"House was drunk and he called Amber, instead of Wilson, in the middle of the night to come get him. If it had been Wilson who went to go get him, I don't know…" her voice broke and trailed off into silence. The pain of the event still resided on Cuddy's face. It was obviously a sticky and complicated circumstance that was ongoing and that she, as hospital administrator and friend, had to somehow manage. She shook herself to regain her usual collected composure. "Wilson quit both the hospital and House."

"I can't image that is going smoothly, " Cate surmised with what little she knew about House and his best friend.

"No. I'm down one oncologist, not to mention a good friend and that leaves me alone to deal with an agitated and even more difficult House." Cuddy sighed heavily and then laughed self-consciously. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. It's not your problem."

Cate smiled. She was used to this kind of confessional. As a psychiatrist she had a knack for getting people to talk about their underlying emotions, even if it was inadvertent and unwelcome at times. "It's ok; you're going through grief in sense, as well."

An awkwardly guilty look stole over Cuddy's face. "I didn't particularly care for Amber all that much, but I never wanted to see her dead."

"Well, you are feeling a sense of loss nonetheless, " Cate assured her. "Wilson seemed to be an integral part of life professionally here at the hospital and personally for both you and House. It's natural to miss his presence and to feel empathy for what he's going through."

"Well, that's some of the problem. House doesn't feel _anything_." There was desperation in her voice.

"House isn't grieving in his own, you know, _House_ way?" Cate asked intrigued. Even though she had had only a few glimpses into his complicated psyche, she could tell that for as emotionally stunted as the man was, he had to be exhibiting some kind of emotional distress or guilt over the situation.

"No. _Nothing_. He feels no remorse, no guilt, no empathy, which he could never feel, by the way. He's his same old obnoxious self, " Cuddy explained with a sense of exasperation. "If anything. he's even more obnoxious than usual."

"It could be how he's manifesting his feeling over the situation. Denial is a very powerful defense mechanism." _And it sounds exactly like it would be House's_ _motis operendi. _

"I don't know if he's capable of feeling anything that doesn't revolve around him."

"But, in his world it does revolve around him. His best friend, side-kick, confidant, whatever you want to call Wilson, is not there for him anymore and it doesn't make sense to House because it's as close to abandonment as you can get, and I suspect that's an emotion he can't deal with. So he chooses to ignore it, hence his appearance of no feeling," Cate explained. "It's classic denial."

"He's hired a private detective to follow Wilson around, so he can spy on him, " Cuddy told her conspiratorially.

Cate lifted the corner of her mouth in amusement. He's employed a private detective to do his dirty work, that wasn't something she expected to hear.

"He's had every member of his team researched and probed, including me. And he's somehow trying to sneak it in as some kind of rationalized medical expense. I swear he's delusional. The man is going to drive me nuts." The hospital administrator crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the plastic of her chair in frustration.

Cate sighed and took a sip of her tea. If she wasn't intrigued by his unique personality before, she was certainly hooked now. Why would he go to such trouble for answers to questions that he could most certainly talk his way into, out of and around every which way from Sunday if he truly wanted to? He was a man who always got what he wanted, why would he be circumspect in the process now?

"Maybe he's avoiding the danger of connection to people, " Cate said aloud. She shifted in her chair to get more comfortable, the reasons flowing through her fluidly. "Wilson's leaving has hurt him and made him vulnerable; he's having difficulty dealing with his own part in the death of someone his closest friend cared very deeply about. He already keeps people at a 100 yard distance with his warm and fuzzy personality, so maybe the private investigator is a way to reach out to people in a way that doesn't jeopardize his own fragile state of being?"

"Do you have about an hour everyday free in your schedule to see House professionally, " Cuddy asked with amazement. "Because I think you've summed him up in a nice little box complete with a bow in a total of five minutes and I've struggled to understand him for twenty years."

Cate chuckled. "I don't think he'd ever willing come to talk to me. He thinks psychiatry is crap."

"Oh, but he needs it so desperately, " Cuddy practically begged.

"He might, but he'll have to come on his own terms for it to work, " Cate said. "And you know better than anyone, you can't force him."

"Blackmail usually works, " Cuddy said with a devious smile.

Cate had a suspicion that blackmail was used quite often to get House to submit to Cuddy's demands. She laughed. It felt good to be talking to new, yet familiar people who she had things in common with. It was also comforting to know that drama existed no matter where she went. Drama was the one constant in the universe. Where there were people, there was drama. She could count on it and practically set her watch by it. It was just that some people's drama was sometimes more interesting than others. This particular scenario had all the makings of a _Lifetime_ movie of the week. It was going to be interesting to watch it unfold like a house of cards, that was for sure, because she had a sneaking suspicion she was going to be smack dab in the middle of it like it or not.


	4. Chapter 4: The Plan

Sessions: Chapter 4 – The Plan

_Thanks to those who've reviewed. I really appreciate your interest… I've taken a scene from Adverse Events 5.03 and changed the setting a bit for my own purposes. The dialog's the same but I changed it to a walk and talk. _

It was Tuesday afternoon and they were no further with Messed up Artist guy than they were yesterday. Stranger yet, he was growing red hair. House led his team through the hospital at their usual pace doing a walk and talk differential. He needed to walk. His leg was killing him and something was killing their patient. Kutner had just discovered irregular heart rhythms and suspected Romano Ward Syndrome. Beta blockers weren't working and his heart couldn't handle an ICD. So where did that leave them?

"Pete Best…" House announced expectantly waiting for them to jump on his analogy train. He rolled his eyes when no body bit. "Good God, has none of you ever read a history book? The original Beatles drummer… " he stated the obvious, to anyone who had any taste in music and was born before 1970. Old fart Taub should have at least been on this train. "A bunch of nerves controls the tempo of the heart. They're all playing in time except one dude can't keep the beat and wrecks the whole thing. So, we hire Ringo."

Kutner emerged along side him. "Pete Best was actually a great drummer." Score two points for the young one. "But, I assume you think the patient needs a cardiac sympathectomy?"

House nodded. "Probably shoulda just said that…"

"Start cutting nerves you risk his swallowing, vocal cords, sweating…" Taub cut in. Leave it to the stodgy black cloud to always rain on his parade.

"So he saves a fortune on karaoke and deodorant, " House proposed belligerently.

"You think he's stable enough for surgery," Thirteen added in her typical state the obvious way.

"If he was, " he said staring back at her over his shoulder, "He wouldn't need it."

House rounded the corner that led to his office and nearly flattened a woman who was coming in the opposite direction. She stopped abruptly after bouncing off of his chest which in fact, wasn't all that unpleasant since her boobs pressed against the wall of a his ribs in a soft cashmere covered cushiony fashion. Upon further inspection he found they were infinitely fuller and more supple than Cuddy's fun bags. He opened his mouth to bark at her on principle for being in his way when she pulled herself up taller and thrust a fist full of tiny papers in his face. He stepped back abruptly causing the ducklings to collide in his wake. He shrugged off Taub from his shoulder and growled in frustration.

"God, will you people get out of my personal bubble, " he shouted. "The only one who's really allowed in there is the skinny bisexual one." Thirteen rolled her eyes and crossed her arms muttering something that sounded like "Dream on."

"Dr. House, "came the clipped voice of Cate who was standing in front of him shaking the little pieces of paper in his face again. "Do you know what these are?"

He leaned heavily on his cane and looked skyward, his brow furrowed in mock concentration. "Hmm, let me see, they're not the color of Monopoly money, so I'm guessing you don't want to buy Park Place."

Cate placed a hand on her hip, a hip that was perfectly proportioned to her fabulous breasts she'd just rubbed on his chest. Those perfectly proportioned hips were wrapped in a conservative tweed skirt that hugged her curves in all the right places and stopped right above her shapely calves. Images of her naked Antarctic self-examination physical on his laptop flooded his overly active mind and he shook his head to clear the vision from his thoughts.

"Twelve messages, " she repeated. "You left me twelve messages with my assistant."

House turned to his crew. "Go schedule the surgery." They scattered hurriedly upon his order like rats jumping ship. He brought his full attention back to Cate who had now dropped her hand by her side.

"Why are you leaving obnoxious messages with my assistant?" she asked him in exasperation.

"Well, isn't it obvious, " House said.

"What it is, is annoying, " Cate said vehemently. " The woman has a job to do, House. I have real patients, real live people, with real problems that want to make appointments."

"I'm a _real_ person, with _really_ big problems."

"Yes, this is true, " Cate admitted begrudgingly. "However, my patients actually want to see me for _help_, not to try to get into my pants."

"You don't know that's true, " he objected. "Paraphilias is a legitimate sexual disorder. How do you know one of your patients doesn't have that?"

"None of my patients want to shove unusual objects into their bodily orifices or mine." She paused and then tilted her head regarding him curiously. "Unless that's why you want to see me. Do you have unnatural urges about you cane, Dr. House?"

House stared at her. She was mocking him. "What if I did? Would you agree to see me then?"

"House, you don't have Paraphilias. And you don't have anything that a strong anti-depressant and a good cry wouldn't cure."

"I'm seeking out therapy and you mock me, " House objected gravely. "Dr. Milton, I'm shocked at your lack of professionalism."

"You're not really coming to talk to me about _you_, you have ulterior motives. You always do."

House moved past her into his office forcing her to tag along. "I don't think you know me well enough to say that."

"You're reputation proceeds you, House. Besides, working with you for three days straight to diagnose me kind of gives me a first hand perspective."

House sat at his desk and grabbed his red and gray thinking ball. He spun it around in his flattened palm. "Then you know me well enough to know I don't take 'no' for an answer."

Cate came of to the edge of his desk and leaned across it on her fists, nearly knocking the ball out of his hand. "And you know me well enough to know that I can't be pushed into something that I don't think is necessary."

"What do you want me to do, break down and cry, lamenting that fact that my best friend will no longer talk to me because he thinks I killed his girlfriend?"

"No, I don't need such fabricated hysterics, " Cate leaned a little further. "I need sincerity and true actions to back up your commitment."

"Like what?"

"Come to grief counseling, group meets on Thursdays at 3."

House sucked air between his teeth. "Ah, been there, done that. Besides, _General Hospital_ starts at 3."

She backed off the edge of the desk and crossed her arms over her lovely, rounded chest. "Then you aren't really serious about talking to me."

He placed the ball back into its position on his desk and leaned forward. "Would it be so terrible if I just dropped by to talk to you one on one whenever I might need?"

She narrowed her eyes at him speculatively. She was searching for the sincerity she claimed she needed, which he was sure she would find. He really did want to talk to her. That was fact. The shrink part he could care less about. His motives might not be what she wanted but, it was nonetheless a version of the truth. "I'll be around if you feel you need truly need to talk, for real." _Bingo, she folded._

"That's all I'm asking for," he said holding his hands up in truce.

She crossed to the door and tossed him one last suspicious glance before sashaying her pert little ass back up to the psyche ward. And so his plan started to unfold.


	5. Chapter 5: The Negotiation

Sessions 5: The Negotiation

"So how's this going to work?" Cate asked as she regarded House from across her cozy office configuration comprised of a comfortable leather therapist's chair and cushy leather patient's sofa. Millionaire donors didn't spare any expense when it came to the comforts of psychotherapy. There was a glossy mahogany coffee table between them just wide enough to separate them as a protective barrier but low enough to provide a sense of openness. It was psychological feng sui designed to make patients feel at ease.

House stared back at her awkwardly, unaffected by the safety table, dropping the tip of his cane onto the floor, bringing it back up and letting it go again. "Isn't it me who supposed to be asking that question?"

"Usually, yes, " Cate answered casually, "But since you make up the rules as you go, I figured I'd cut to the chase and let you lay it out for me."

He narrowed his eyes at her in consideration of her proposal. He was trying to figure out if there was an angle, but when he didn't find any he said, "Ok, you want me to talk…"

"No, " she interrupted, "You said you wanted to talk. I said I was available if you needed to talk."

He laughed a short laugh accompanied with a quick smiled. "True, but, if I'm going to get all in touch with my feelings, I'm going to need something in return."

Cate smiled knowing where this was going. "Reciprocity."

"Quid pro quo, " he echoed, smirking. "I needed you to get naked for a physical that would save your life with 9000 miles separating us and you made me show you my apartment first."

"What are your terms?"

"For every three questions you ask me, I get to ask one of you, " he stated.

Cate laughed. "How does knowing personal things about me help you?"

He leaned his head to the side. "If I'm supposed to be vulnerable and trust you, then I need to know you're emotionally vested too."

It was an honest admission on his part and no doubt a concern he held in regards to all interactions on a personal level. She wasn't sure how she felt about this. It was highly inappropriate to share personal information with a patient. But, then again, House was no ordinary patient. She wasn't even sure he was a patient and given their recent history, it probably made it even more unethical on both their parts since he had been her doctor, as well. "Fine, "she agreed impulsively. "But, three for one is way too much book keeping for an hour session."

"Five for two, " he bargained.

"That's practically the same ratio, " she hook her head. " How about five questions for every hour long session that you honestly, sincerely participate in?"

"Any five. Free reign or it's no go."

Reluctantly she nodded her head. "Agreed."

Triumphantly he nodded his head. "Agreed."

Cate shifted in her seat and settled in getting comfortable. "So, do you want to start hard or easy?"

He looked at the ceiling and bit his tongue. "Oh, there's so many ways I can go with that one, but I promised. I don't know… easy?"

"If you were stuck on a deserted island, tell me five things you would bring with you, " Cate began.

He screwed up his face into a twisted mask of confusion. "This is how you start - what five things would I bring to a deserted island?"

Cate smiled. "It gives me a sense of what things are important to you. It's an ice breaker. You said easy."

"Vicodin, Vicodin, Vicodin, Vicodin and Vicodin."

"All five things would be Vicodin?"

"I need a lot of Vicodin."

"Ok, let's just say you somehow had an unlimited supply, what four other things?"

"Do I have unlimited electricity or battery power?"

Cate nodded. "It's like Gilligan's island; you have a little monkey riding a bicycle generating all the power you need."

"Dude, I'd live like a king, " he said excitedly. "I'd bring my PSP, my iPod, my guitar and my piano."

"Why do those four things make you live like a king?"

"Because all of them keep me entertained. I wouldn't be bored."

"What about people?"

"People are idiots."

"Don't people entertain you?" Cate asked.

"Depends, " he said.

"On what? Their idiocy or the choices they make because their idiots?"

"Both I suppose. People make stupid choices because they think it's the right thing to do and that annoys me."

"So you'd rather have nobody with you on your island, because people, or rather the choices they make, annoy you."

He nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, sounds good to me."

Cate considered him for a moment. She wasn't buying it. "What about Wilson?" His intense blue eyes glazed over into a dark, slate blue. She'd touched a delicate nerve. "You hired a private detective to follow him around so you could see what he was doing, if he missed you?"

"How'd you know about that?" His voice was deep with a sharp edge. She realized his playfulness could turn on a dime.

"Cuddy told me," she stated.

"I gather that was the hard one you were going to start with. I thought we were doing easy?"

"Easy always leads to hard," she stated.

"I'll remember that."

"Wilson…" she brought him back carefully.

"Wilson is an idiot."

"He made a choice that you think makes him an idiot."

"No, he is an idiot."

"He made a choice that he thought was going to help him and you disagreed with it."

"Quitting the hospital isn't going to make it any better, Amber's still going to be dead."

"Right, and his leaving not only affects him, it affects you."

"Exactly, " he exclaimed, finally vindicated. "And no body will see that."

"Generally, people will side with the person who lost the biggest. I don't think you qualify in this case."

"I've know him for twenty years, a hell of a lot longer than he knew her."

"But she died, he didn't. "

"But he's acting like he did."

"Maybe, but that's for him to work out. Maybe what he needs is time."

"What, time heals all wounds, " House moaned. "If he wants to honor her, he needs to live and not crawl into a hole like his entire life is over and means nothing."

"For you that might work, at least for a little while, but that doesn't work for everyone."

"It's gotten me this far," House declared.

"Really, and where is that?" Cate challenged.

"Times up, my turn."

Cate closed here eyes and fought back the urge to pummel him. There were just beginning to get somewhere. This wasn't going to be easy. "Ok. Shoot."

"Want to start easy or hard?" he asked with a devilish grin.

"Don't be a wise ass, " Cate warned. "Now you're down to four."

"What? That's not fair, " he complained.

"Now it's three."

He rolled his eyes. "That was more of an exclamation than a question!"

"Three. Make 'em good hotshot." She leaned back in her chair and welcomed the drilling.

He too settled back against the cushions of his seat. He rested his arm along the back of the couch.

"Number one…of three, " he evil-eyed her but there was a wicked grin tugging at the corner of his scruffy mouth. "Were you attracted to me when I was treating you in the South Pole?"

_Shit_. Cate felt the heat rise up her neck. He was going to play dirty. Hmm…"Yes."

He pressed his lips together in approval. "Number two – Are you attracted to me now?"

_Fuck_. "You're not being fair."

"Neither are you."

_Fuck. Fuck_. "Yes."

His smile reached his eyes. He had her dangling on a hook. "Number three – Does that have anything to do with why you're here instead of with Hero Boy, cranium driller, in the South Pole?"

"No." With that, Cate stood. "Times up House." She walked to the door and opened it effectively ending the conversation.

He slowly hobbled over to where she was standing. "One word answers aren't going to cut it, you know. I'm going to need a deeper commitment from you." He stared down at her, his blue eyes boring into her own.

"The irony of that statement coming from you is palpable, " she said forcing herself to hold his gaze. It made her insides tingle. _Just a little_.

"Kinda weird, huh?" He leaned in a little closer. _Ok, maybe a lot_. "Until next time?"

Cate nodded and brought her gaze to stare at her shoes. "Until next time."

He made his way slowly down the hallway and then turned back to her. "And quit staring at my ass as I walk away from you. It' makes me feel like a piece of meat."

Cate laughed and brought a hand up to her face to cover her embarrassment. Five people had turned to stare as he projected his fake admonishment at her. This was going to be one hell of a ride.


	6. Chapter 6:2Fish, 1 Cat

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House but desperately wish I did.

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed… This is by far the longest chapter so far. Hope you like it. P.S. the fish story actually happened to my husband…_

Sessions 6: 2 Fish, 1 cat and the Nitty Gritty

A week later, House sat in Cate's office again for the second time in three days. He was a little surprised when he found himself looking forward to going to see her today. He actually wanted to talk to her. _What the hell was that all about?_ Talking was not his forte. Talking about his personal feelings, certainly not his forte. It was a means to an end, he supposed. He wanted info on her so he had to give her info on him. It was all a ruse. And he was good at those. It saved patients when Cuddy and the transplant committee denied questionable organ transplants. It got people to give up on their precious lies to save themselves. It saved his ass from prison when Tritter was hounding him. Although, he'd really never admit to anyone, ever, that maybe he really did need to take a time out from the Vicodin and the abuse he'd been throwing around, especially to Wilson.

They had been talking about Wilson a lot in the passed few "sessions". They talked about his needing space; his just plain needing – to be needed _and_ to help the needy; his moving ridiculously slowly through the grief process. _Those were his words, not Cate's_. Throughout it all, she made him feel comfortable about the talking. Sure, she was a sarcastic pain in the ass but then again so was he. She was doggedly stubborn, he'd give her that. She wouldn't let him hide from anything but she never judged him or told him he was wrong. Which made him happy because he knew was right about ninety-five percent of the time, anyway.

He watched her intently from across the room. She was standing behind her desk closing the drawer after refueling on a piece of dark chocolate. She tossed him a piece when she came around to sit in her usual place. She kicked off her high heels and tucked her bare feet under her rear end in a decidedly casual pose. _Hmm, no stockings. That's hot._ He ran a hand over the back of his head. It baffled him how women insisted on wearing stripper pumps all day to work when they weren't even strippers. It was sexy as hell, but murder on the feet. _Why isn't bunion in women's vocabulary?_

"So, did you ever have a pet when you were a kid?" She asked distractedly as she finished her piece of chocolate.

House pulled back and shook his head in surprise. "Hey random question."

Her chuckle fluttered throughout the room. "Just curious."

He scratched at the stubble on his jaw jogging his memory. There weren't many pets in his lifetime; at least not of the fuzzy, long living variety. "I had fish once when I was five."

"When you were five?" the lilt in her voice still there.

He looked at his hands. It was along time ago. He hated remembering about his childhood. "Yeah, I had gotten them at some carnival or something. I named them Batman and Robin."

"Batman and Robin? That's kind of cute." She raised an eyebrow at him.

House felt himself blush a tiny bit. He replied in a small voice. "One was black and the other was orange." It was stupid and childish, why was he telling her this?

"How long did you have them? I mean, I have no idea how long fish last."

He grimaced. "Not long when you don't feed them." She raised her eyebrows at him. "I was five, " he defended himself. It wasn't like he killed them on purpose. "One day the black one was gone from the bowl. My mother, trying to be compassionate, told me that Batman went to live in the stream behind our house. So, I flushed Robin down the toilet to be with him."

A loud bust of laughter escaped out of her and she immediately covered her mouth with her hand to stifle herself. He made a face at her. "Please continue, " she pleaded, her brown eyes large and full of an apology.

He eyed her warily. "I didn't want Batman to be lonely, " he explained as if he didn't care. "As soon as I flushed him, I ran out back to the stream to see if he would come out. I waited like twenty minutes and he never came out."

She pouted in sympathy and he rolled his eyes at her. "Don't go making this into more than it is."

"House, that's really sad, " she said. "A little boy standing over a stream waiting for his fish to come out and live free with his little fish friend. You were trying to do something nice."

"No, what I did was kill the other fish, " he said.

"Yeah but you didn't understand that at the time, " Cate said in consolation.

"Whatever, I was five, " he groused. "So, why the question about animals?"

She looked at her grey slacks and picked a piece of lint from them. "I got a cat last week, " she stated.

It was his turn to laugh. "Why the hell would you do that?"

She shrugged and held her hand up in the air. "Because I'm a sucker."

"Don't tell me you found this kitten in a dumpster and just had to rescue it? What is it with chicks and cute, furry animals?"

"No, it's not that pathetic, " she said with a touch of amusement. "An old homeless lady came into the ER. She coded in the ambulance and was DOA when they brought her in but she had a cat in her coat. The cat was dehydrated and hungry."

"That is just as pathetic, " he insisted.

"So what, " she argued. "Anyway, Dr. Cameron cleaned her up and fed her some turkey from her sandwich. She wanted to take the cat home, but she said Dr. Chase wouldn't have any part of it."

_Figures, freaking Cameron, savior of all strays, would be part of this story._ "Smart guy, so how did you wind up with the cat, " he asked dubiously.

"I was in on a suicide consult and she talked me into it," Cate replied sheepishly.

"You are a sucker, " he told her.

"So what's the deal between you and Cameron?"

_Shit. God damn it. How did easy always lead to freaking hard?_ He rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. "There's no deal."

She pursed her lips like she didn't believe him. "She and Chase live together, right?"

"Yeah." If he made his tone sound disinterested, then maybe she'd let it go.

"How long have they been together?"

"Don't know, don't care." Why did they need to get into this? This was old news.

"Were they a couple when they worked for you?" she asked.

"Yeah, she couldn't stand working around his fabulous hair day in day out without being able to run her fingers through it. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Why do you care?" he groused.

"I don't care, " she said benignly. "Do you?"

"I've always wanted to run my fingers through Chase's hair too, but I guess she called dibs first."

Cate smiled at his sarcasm. "Did you care that they were together when they worked for you?"

He shrugged indifferently. "I don't care that they're together now, why would I have cared then?"

"I heard that Dr. Cameron used to have a thing for you?" _And here it is…the big juicy question._

"Yeah, my hair just didn't have that sexy Panteen bounce."

"_Did_ _you_ have a thing for her?" _God, she was stubborn._

He leveled his intense gaze at her. "No."

"Nothing?" she asked with an air of disbelief." You weren't even a little attracted to her?" She held up her fingers to indicate just a half an inch, prodding him.

"Have you seen her?" he scoffed. "I think you might even be attracted to her. Is that what this is about? You like her… you want to try some of the good, nasty lesbo love, " he said.

Cate shook her head. "This isn't about me."

"You sure, because I've got a smoking hot one of those down in Diagnostics just ready to go?" _Hmm, now that would be a sight._

"Maybe next time, " Cate said and leaned back against the leather cushion of her chair. "So, you _were_ attracted to her."

House shifted in his seat under her scrutiny. His leg was starting burn. He took the Vicodin bottle from his jacket pocket and dry-swallowed two for good measure. He needed it to take the edge off.

"So, if you were attracted to her and she had a thing for you, why didn't you ever act on it?"

"Now, Dr. Milton, that would just be unethical. She was my employee."

Cate laughed. "Yeah, you are nothing if not ethical."

He narrowed his eyes at her and then studied his hands on his cane for a while, allowing himself the opportunity to feel the effects of the Vicodin beginning to numb him both physically and emotionally. A familiar wave of warmth started to creep over him. He was starting to feel good. "We went on a date once, " he offered quietly. "She blackmailed me."

Cate had the grace to somehow stifle her chuckle at his admission to something so ridiculous. "She blackmailed you? How?"

"She had quit and I nee…_wanted_ her to come back. She refused to come back unless I took her out on a date." He grimaced. There was no doubt she didn't miss his cover up of the word _need_. _Idiot, that was careless_.

"So you did what any rational boss would do who wanted his employee back and took her out on a date."

"Yeah, something like that." He rolled his eyes at the memory. The absurdity of that ill-fated experience lurked in the deeper recesses of his mind. He had long put that away and he wished it could stay there.

"I take it, it didn't go well, " she pressed.

"No, not really, " he said watching her intently. When she didn't say anything, he started, "What? Aren't you going to ask what I did to screw it up?"

"Why would it be your fault it didn't work out?" Cate asked with a practiced air of innocence.

"Oh, come on, you and half the world has to assume that I would have said or done something to ruin that perfect opportunity."

"You're a smart guy, why would you do something to screw up perfect opportunity staring you in the face like that, right? No, it must have been something else."

"Oh, puh-leez, you don't believe that any more than I believe in Santa Claus and fat little elves."

"Alright then, you tell _me_ why you would purposely screw up such a perfect opportunity."

"Because, I am who I am, the selfish misanthropic son-of-a-bitch, who can't feel anything akin to the warm fuzzies that emanate like toxic radiation poisoning from Cameron."

Cate tilted her head at his description of himself considering him for a beat. "She had to have known exactly who you were before that date and yet somehow she still wanted to go out with you enough to have to blackmail it out of you."

He jerked his head slightly in an answer. Maybe that was true but it didn't matter now.

"It bothers you that she's nice."

"She's too nice."

"And niceties can never be genuine."

"Stop phrasing your questions like they're statements designed to agree with me."

Cate rolled her eyes. She gave him her practiced therapist face. "Do you think her niceties weren't genuine?"

"Her _niceties_, " he said it like a dirty word, "got in the way of her job."

"How so?"

"She became attached to patients, and sugar coated bad news and became emotional when things went wrong." _All the time. And she tried to do it with me._

"And you thought that made her weak?"

"People don't need platitudes when they're dying, " he said.

"No, they need the truth and empathy, " Cate stated.

His tone was cold. "I don't have time for empathy."

"Or niceties." Cate paused quietly. "You believed that because she was nice she was not strong enough to handle your…uniquely _rough_ personality."

"Is that a question or a statement?" he asked.

"Depends on whether you agree with it or not, doesn't it?"

He cracked a smile. He was always surprised when she backed him into a verbal corner. It seemed to be happening more often. And she seemed pleased by it.

"I would have crushed her like a bug, " he said after a few moments.

"Wasn't that for her to decide?"

He looked down at his hands again. "It would have been a huge mistake."

"So you were protecting her from you?" He didn't respond. "You showed compassion and selflessness by not taking what she was offering." Cate watched him for a moment, while he stared at her intently not willing to respond. She decided to push further. "Was there any possibility that you might have been protecting yourself?"

He sneered at the very thought. "What from Princess Fuzzypants?" What would he have to protect himself from?

"Sure, why not? Maybe you were afraid that if you opened yourself to the opportunity to be with someone who showed empathy and who cared about you, that you would someday disappoint them. And then they'd leave you."

"That's not why," he said quietly.

"The truth is, I don't think you really know why, " Cate stated.

"Why? Why does any of this matter?"

"Because it effects how you deal with the people in your life, it effects how you approach every situation and interaction with those around you, those who mean something to you, people like Wilson," Cate said gently, mentioning his estranged best friend but backing off at the warning look in his eyes."You'd rather disappoint someone by being an ass then disappoint someone while you're being genuine in your feelings, because if you strike first then, they can't hurt you."

He sat quietly for a minute and absorbed what she said. He looked down at his sneakers. She wasn't far off from the mark. How was it possible for her to know so much about how his mind worked from a few conversations? He was the one who could size people up in a heartbeat. He liked to think he was complicated and indecipherable. When did he become so transparent?

"Times up." Cate stood as if to make a move to the door.

"Uh, uh… after all that crap about Cameron, you owe me five good answers, " he reminded her.

Reluctantly, she sat back down with a sigh and braced herself. She'd been skirting his questions all week with half answers. It was time to get to the nitty gritty.

"What's the deal between you and Sir I'll-drink-your-pee-in Shining Armor?"

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips into a thin sardonic smile. Taking a deep calming breath, she leveled her gaze back at him. "There is no deal, " she repeated his own words to him.

He shook his head disappointed. "Come on real answers, Cate."

"For real, House, there is no deal. There was never anything between us."

He drew his eyebrows together curious. "He obviously had feelings for you or he wouldn't have done the things he did to help you."

"He does, I just… don't feel them in return, " she admitted softly.

"He seems like a nice guy, willing to go that extra mile…"

"He is nice. He's sweet and caring and everything that most women would want in a man."

"But not you, " he said and then kicked himself for stating the obvious. Damn, he'd been hanging around Thirteen too long. "Why not?"

"Because I like a challenge. Some one who can be my intellectual equal."

"Ah, pretty but dumb. Yeah, so been there and done that, Girlfriend, " he said his best exaggerated valley-girl imitation.

She laughed at that and then stood. "I think that has to quell a decent amount of your curiosity for now."

"For now, " he said and stood as well following her to the door. He limped heavily over to stand closely in front of her. Without her heels on, his lanky frame towered over her. She had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye. With a smirk, he met her deep sable eyes with a steady gaze. Her pupils dilated as he continued to look intently at her.

"Same time next week," she asked in a breathy voice. He watched the heat rise from the v in the neck of her green silk blouse. He liked it that he could make her uncomfortable from three feet away.

"Same adult pay-per-view channel," he replied.

"Bye, House."

"Bye, Cate."


	7. Chapter 7: Shopping for Caskets

Sessions 7: Shopping for Caskets

"How's the cat?" House asked jovially sliding into the chair across from her in the cafeteria. She was startled by his sudden appearance. Apparently she'd been so deep in her day dreaming out the window that she didn't even here his three-legged gate come up swiftly along side her. He was the slickest three-legged ninja she'd come across in her travels yet.

"We're acclimating, " Cate answered picking at the corner of her sandwich.

"Actually, I don't really care. I just figured it was a good opening for me to come over here and steal your cheese doodles, " he announced swiping the little blue bag before she had a chance to grab it back. He raised his eyebrows at her and poured a mouthful into his trap, chewing rather obnoxiously in his triumph.

"Can I get you anything else, soda, napkin, barf bag? Oh wait, that one's for me…" she said grimacing at his table manners. She assumed he was going for the caveman, frat boy look today since he was extra scruffy and was wearing a very wrinkled t-shirt that read "Weekend Forecast, Mostly Drunk with a chance of Horny".

"Sandwich would be good. Are you gonna eat the rest of that half?"

Cate pushed the tray to his side of the table. "No, I'm done. Have at it."

"Thank God, do you know how long it's been since I have had a lunch," he said grabbing the second half of her roast beef on whole wheat with Swiss, lettuce and tomato. "I can't get anyone to buy me lunch since Wilson quit. O'Shea looked promising but I think he wanted me to put out." He made a face and picked off the lettuce and replaced it with four cheese doodles. "For next time, we eat pastrami on rye, no pickles."

"I'll keep that in mind." Wiping her hands on her crumpled napkin, Cate sighed and leaned back against her chair. "So, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"I'm avoiding Cuddy, " he said.

"Gee, thanks, I'm glad I rate as side-diversion from work responsibility. You sure know how to make a girl feel special, " Cate said sarcastically.

House shrugged. "What can I say, you are a fair sight better looking than Coma Guy."

Cate laughed. "I should hope so." She crossed her arms under her chest ironically remembering that she had picked out her sexy black silk blouse today, the one that was just sheer enough to make out her bra through it. Her movement had apparently drawn his attention to the fact as well because he was staring unabashedly at her cleavage. The butterflies in her stomach threw a party while the heat from their barbeque rose up her chest to her neck. _Note to self: Never wear this blouse to work again._

House smiled and waggled his eyes brow. "Nice blouse."

"I wore it for Carmichael in radiology, " she said to cover up her embarrassment.

"Carmichael's gay, " House said a bit too forcefully. She arched an eyebrow at him curiously in response to his jealous tone. He immediately powered down and changed subjects, "I can't meet with you today."

"Oh, how come?" _Oh good lord, as that disappointment coming out of her mouth?_

"I have to crack a kid's brain open at 2:30, " he said causally, like this was an everyday occurrence.

"Oh, well I suppose that rates a little higher on the importance scale…"

He looked around rather anxiously. "I'd much rather have to talk to you than cut a kid's head open hoping to find answers."

"It does sound a tiny bit drastic, " she responded. She wasn't sure how to interpret his last statement.

"It's a last resort…Shit…" he looked over to the entrance to the cafeteria and grumbled when he saw Cuddy making a bee-line for where there where sitting. He looked like a petulant child who was just caught driving his tonka trucks through the flower beds in the rain.

"You brow beat a mother into consenting to do exploratory surgery on her child's brain?" Cuddy's tone was high and incredulous.

"If that the spin you want to put on it…"

"You cannot do exploratory surgery on the brain of a twelve year old, House, " she insisted vehemently. "I'm cancelling the surgery and scheduling a CT."

House rose from the chair and pulled himself up to his full height. He was obviously trying to use his height advantage to intimidate her. "Already did the CT at 6mm slices. CT shows nothing, the contrast CT shows nothing. The only way to tell for sure what's screwing with her brain is to go in there and look up close."

She wasn't shaken in the least. No doubt from umpteen rounds of battle with him over the years. "I'm not going to let you go on a fishing expedition in a twelve year old's brain. Find another way."

His vehemence was evident with the disdain that dripped from his every word as he said, "There is no other way. She is going to die in the next twenty-four hours if we don't find what is causing her organs to shut down." He paused to temper his irritation and started again. "The mother signed off on the procedure."

"After you showed her a catalog of caskets that she can shop from once her daughter's dead!" Cuddy was beside herself in anger and frustration and House at least had the grace to look chagrinned. Cate sat and watched the melodrama unfold before her with a morbid sense of curiosity. The tactics that House employed to treat his patients were notoriously unconventional if not borderline illegal and Cuddy's little Dutch-boy act with her finger in the dam was quite impressive. It was a sick dance of wills to be sure and to watch it unfold before her was relatively intriguing.

"She'll need the catalog if you don't let me do this procedure, " House stated gravely. He paused for emphasis watching her intently boring his will into her with his brilliant blue eyes. And then it came. He saw the chink in her armor appear and he went in for the final salvo. "You have the damn paper signed. If the girl dies because of the surgery we're off the hook, if we don't do the surgery, she'll die anyway. Either way she's going to be shopping for caskets."

"Do the damn procedure, " Cuddy acquiesced much to her own dismay.

House was off in a flash as quick as he had come. Cuddy sighed wearily and slid into the seat House had vacated. Cate sat quietly regarding the other woman. She didn't envy her position in the least. As Dean of Medicine the blame ultimately fell on her. She was the one to have to explain and account for all of the decisions made, good or bad, life or death. House's renegade fire sale approach to medicine was an ethical and legal nightmare and she was the one left holding the bag when things went wrong. No, Cate certainly didn't envy Cuddy's position.

"That man will drive me to drink one day, " Cuddy said running a hand over her face.

"Is it always like this, " Cate asked.

"Sometimes. Sometimes it's worse, " Cuddy declared.

Cate shook her head. "You have earned you're angel wings for today."

"Yeah except I'm Jewish, " she said with a smile.

Cate laughed. "Metaphorically then."

"He's been coming to see you, " Cuddy asked her carefully.

"We've met about five times."

Cuddy nodded. "It seems to be working. He's been less of an ass to everyone, even nurse's in the clinic, that is up until today."

"I can work magic but not over night, " Cate quipped, "there's some serious mojo needed for that one."

"Gimme the voodoo doll, I'll be more than happy to stick the pins in, " Cuddy said excitedly.

Cate laughed, Cuddy's enthusiasm duly noted. "So how did you get him to come to talk to me?"

"I didn't do anything, " she tilted her head confused.

"Oh, I thought you must have done something to … motivate him some how, " Cate said, now confused herself.

"No, " Cuddy said shaking her head. "He must really miss talking to Wilson."

Cate nodded unwilling to divulge anything more. "You didn't stipulate that this was mandatory?"

"No, not at all. I mean, I have some serious dirt on him and I should make psychiatric counseling mandatory, but I really can't make him face what goes on inside that twisted head of his anymore than I can I can make him treat patients' families with more respect than he does."

Cate considered what she was saying for a moment. He was coming to see her on his own accord, willingly subjecting himself to scrutiny and emotional analysis. With him, that in and of itself was suspect. What did he want out of this deal? What did he hope to achieve? Did he really want help or was this all an elaborate ruse to get an in with her? Curious, she wasn't sure how she felt about that. On one hand she was glad that he was benefitting from their conversations, whether he'd admit it or not. On the other hand if it wasn't for his own emotional stability, she was a little irritated that his intentions weren't genuine. Hmm, she'd have to look into that one. Easy always leads to hard.


	8. Chapter 8: Sleeping Dogs Lie

Sessions: 8 – Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

It was late. She was tired. It had been one long ass day. She dragged herself into her darkened office in search of a healthy dose of dark chocolate and some peace and quiet. Raging sociopaths and wandering infantile regression patients made for a trying day. She didn't bother to turn on the overhead light because the brightness would only agitate her frayed nerves. Instead, she rounded the corner of her desk and switched on a table lamp to cast a warm, soothing glow over her workspace. She quietly opened her desk drawer and took out her piece of golden wrapped treasure popping it into her mouth on an audible sigh as the silken chocolate hit her tongue in a riot of sweet and bitter sensation. Warm fudgy goodness permeated her senses as she closed her eyes melting into the liquid confection slowly and sumptuously erasing her stresses of the day. Who needed sex when there was dark chocolate? She grinned inwardly. Of course sex would have been good too, who was she kidding. Unfortunately, chocolate was a hell of a lot more available at this juncture of her life.

Ready to leave for the day, she bent down to take her purse out of her bottom drawer. She retrieved her bag and locked the desk, replacing the keys into the pocket of her lab coat. She stood up and dropped her purse on a gasp as she spied two sneakered feet hanging off the edge of her couch. Who the fuck was in her office, sleeping on her couch? And how the hell did they get in here? Her heart pounding in her chest, she rounded the corner of her desk again this time in irritation. She approached the couch and then halted when she saw its occupant sound asleep. _House_. She muttered a disgruntled sigh of relieve and shook her head as she moved over to coffee table taking a seat quietly on the edge.

He was zonked out cold. A wave of empathy stole over her as she watched his long sleeping form draped on the couch. He looked so peaceful, almost boyish as he slept. There was no anger, no bitterness or sarcastic resolve. Just a guy who hardly slept who crashed on a sofa where nobody would bother him for a few hours. He probably figured she'd gone home for the evening and that he had the place to himself. She toyed with the idea of waking him but she couldn't bring herself to do it. So, she sat in silence and watched him sleep.

Watching someone sleep was such an intimate experience. You were awake and the person you were watching was completely vulnerable to you. All of their protective mechanisms were hidden, like infants in the hands of their caretakers, utterly at the mercy of another. She suspected House carefully orchestrated his life so he was never in such a position to be completely at the mercy of another. He was so busy manipulating every circumstance to bend to his will, so that he was in control of every situation and everyone in it. He would never allow himself to be controlled by another. It must have been truly exhausting to be in such control all of the time. She doubted he ever let anyone get close to the inside lest they see this vulnerable, defenseless side of him.

His face was really, really scruffy now and the wrinkles around his large eyes slackened in silent repose. His hands where crossed softly on his stomach, ironically reminiscent of being lain to rest in a casket. Considering the events of the day with his patient, it was a twisted description. However, a strong and powerful life force radiated from him even as he slumbered. She was drawn to it, pulled into his gravity like a comet into an imploding star. She reached out and touched his hand curling her fingers around his long elegantly deft ones. His skin was surprisingly soft and warm and it sent those traitorous butterflies into a dance deep with her belly. She withdrew her hand and laced her fingers together resting her chin against her hands and propped on her elbows on her lap. He stirred then and woke up suddenly on a huge gasp of air.

His eyes searched around the room in disorientation finally coming to settle on her face. He blinked his eyes forcefully to shake the sleep from them and moved to sit up. She pushed him down with a gentle hand to the chest and he hardly resisted, leaning back into the softness of the cushions at his back.

"Relax, " she instructed quietly. "You don't have to get up."

He stared awkwardly at her hand on his chest and she removed it quickly so he wouldn't get the wrong idea and catch her caring. "How long have you been in here?" his voice was gravely with sleep.

"Not long, " she lied. "I just came to get my things before I went home for the night. How long have you been in here?"

"What time is it?"

"Eight o'clock. It's been a long day, " she answered the questioning look in his eyes.

"For both of us, " he muttered. "I guess I've been sleeping for a few hours."

"How is your patient, " she asked.

He rubbed the last of the sleep from his face with both of his hands before bringing them to his leg. He rubbed at the damaged muscle under his jeans and lifted the leg with both hands so he could sit up. A scowl of pain clouded his features and he took out his Vicodin to numb the flare up. Swallowing two pills with a sickening crunch that made Cate inwardly grimace for him, he said, "She's alive, no thanks to Cuddy. She had a ganglioma around her pituitary gland that was wreaking havoc with her organs. Foreman removed it. She'll be fine."

Cate nodded. "That's good."

"So why were you watching me sleep, " he asked pointedly.

Caught in his deep blue gaze, she sighed in resignation, "I don't know."

He smiled a sardonic grin. "You're wearing you lab coat, how come?"

She moved her eyes to the floor, in embarrassment remembering how he looked at her earlier in her sheer blouse. _Did nothing get by this man?_ "It's cold and I don't like to be cold."

"I know, " he said in an intimate whisper. "It's a sexy blouse; it's a shame to cover it up."

She looked away and stood up ignoring him. "So, do you feel vindicated now that you were right? Are you going to rub it in Cuddy's face?"

"No need too, " he said making no move to get up. "She knows I'm usually right, I don't know why she always puts up a fight."

"She has a hospital to run and you're a liability."

"She has an extra stash of money for legal council set aside solely for me, the hospital will be just fine." His tone was flat and almost practiced.

Cate perched on the arm of her chair. "I assume that's more for the families of patients who sue you for false pretenses than for malpractice."

He shrugged indifferently and countered her gaze with his own pinning her to her spot. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion and he looked ready for a fight. Cate wasn't sure if she was willing to give it to him or not, but asked anyway, "Do you always go to such extremes for your patients?"

"I do what needs to be done, " he declared.

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"Why go to such extremes… why does it matter so much to you?"

"What, do you think I do it because I care?" he let out an icy laugh.

"I don't know, do you?

"I don't care."

"Then why push the boundaries of life and death? Why bludgeon people to get what you want, to do what needs to be done?"

"You think I give a crap about people. I don't. ," he snapped at her. "I cure diseases. I get answers when no one else can. That's all."

"When you cure diseases you save people's lives, the two are interconnected; you can't have one without the other."

"I don't go in and hand hold, and empathize, " he said with disdain. "People actually get in the way of the diagnosis. Everyone lies. It's just a matter of sorting through the bullshit to get to the real answers. Don't confuse caring for being interested in solving the mystery."

Cate regarded him from her chair, thinking about how he had handled her predicament last Winter. Everyone working with him noticed that he was different with her. He treated her differently than his other patients. He _cared_ about her, or so they had said. And he had flatly denied it. "Hasn't there ever been a patient that's moved you, someone who snuck inside that chink in your armor? Some one who mattered?"

"No, " he was lying and she knew it because he looked away from her when he said it.

She laughed hollowly. "Come on, House. Everyone lies? You're lying now. You practiced medicine for twenty years and not one single patient has moved you to give an ounce of crap about them?"

He looked down and pursed his lips into a thin frown. His eyes were hooded with unexpressed irritation. He inhaled forcefully and let it out slowly. His voice was small when he did speak. "There's been a few."

"What made them different than the others?"

His forehead creased and his sad expressive eyebrows relayed the myriad of emotions coursing through his brain. It was his tell and he only let it show when he was really close to being emotionally overwhelmed. She had found this the second time they had met and talked abut Wilson. "I was forced into talking to them."

"You got to know them, " she supplied for him.

"In a way."

"You were forced to identify them as people, maybe even respected them."

"What do you want me to say, " he pleaded.

"Tell me about one."

He stood and hobbled behind her with the aid of his cane to stare out the window into the night sky that shrouded the street below them. He was quiet for a minute breathing slowly in and out. "You remind me of one of them."

Cate craned her neck to look at him over her shoulder. He continued on, "She was stubborn, annoyingly perceptive and for some reason took an inexplicable interest in me." She swiveled on the arm rest to face him more closely. He was less than two feet from her shoulder and she could feel his body heat spread out over her. She didn't speak afraid that he would stop talking now that she had gotten him to open up. When he spoke she could hear the vibration of he speech in his chest. "She was a rape victim who stupidly decided that I was the one who she wanted to talk to. I didn't want to talk to her; I didn't know how to help her. There was nothing I could do for her because she was physically healthy. Yet, she wouldn't let me walk away. She kept pushing and insisting that I was the one, that there was something about me. I told her things about my father that I hadn't even told Wilson." He ground the tip of his cane into the carpet and turned to look down at her over his shoulder. His blue eyes were stormy with unexpressed emotions. "There was a little bald cancer kid who inspired me to get my motorcycle because she basically called me a coward. There was coma guy I help to kill himself in Atlantic City so he could give his son his heart. There was this doctor lady I let take part in the differential diagnosis because she was trapped at the South Pole. She was a real pain in the ass."

Cate hadn't realized the she had risen to her feet and was now less than six inches from his side. She felt herself slipping further into his gravity the more he talked. "Why her?" she whispered.

"Because she could call me on my bullshit, was ridiculously stubborn, annoyingly perceptive and extremely beautiful." His hand came up to touch the side of her neck and she leaned instinctively into his touch. The heat of his skin seared into her flesh. His blue eyes bore into her squeezing at her insides. She leaned into him without thinking as he pressed his lips to hers. His touch was tentative at first but then deepened when she moaned softly as the electricity shot through her down to her toes. His tongue teased at her lips tempting her to open her mouth. She parted her lips allowing him to deepen the kiss as she sunk further into his embrace. He tasted of bitter Vicodin and sleep. It was seductive and intoxicating and purely him. My God… she could spend the rest of her life in his arms. What the hell was she thinking? What the hell was she doing? Coming to her senses she broke the connection and pulled away from him.

"House, " she said as he leaned his forehead against hers, his breathing heavy. "We shouldn't do this."

He breathed a heavy sigh and clenched his jaw. In a heartbeat, he pulled away from her taking away his heat with him. He hobbled over to the sofa and put the jacket on the he was using as a pillow when he slept.

"It won't happen again, " he said coldly and then left her standing alone in the darkened office to contemplate what had just taken place between them. She wrapped her arms around her empty midsection. The truth was she had no idea what had just happened between them.


	9. Chapter 9: She's Got a Way

Sessions: 9 – She's got a way

_I told myself I would never do a songfic….but when it fits, you just gotta do it._

Late that night, after the kiss with Cate, House sat alone at his piano, nursing his third glass of bourbon. His fingers ran smoothly and easily over the keyboard as he played a Billy Joel song that he couldn't quite shake from his head.

_She's got a way about her  
I don't know what it is  
But I know that I can't live without her  
She's got a way of pleasin'  
I don't know what it is  
But there doesn't have to be a reason anyway_

He felt like an ass for kissing her. He didn't know what came over him. She was standing so close to him. He could smell the sweetness of her breath on his shoulder and the soft intoxicating scent of her hair. There was something about her, and he didn't know what it was. Her lips were full and soft. She was so pliant to his touch that she almost undid him.

_She's got a smile that heals me  
I don't know why it is  
But I have to laugh when she reveals me  
She's got a way of talkin'  
I don't know why it is  
But it lifts me up when we are walkin' anywhere_

He felt like an ass for leaving her standing there holding the bag like it was her fault. No, he kissed her. It was his fault and she was right. They shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be sleeping in her office and kissing her in the dark like he belonged there. He didn't know where this sense of guilt was coming from. He didn't do guilt. That was not part of his make up.

_She comes to me when I'm feelin' down  
Inspires me without a sound  
She touches me and I get turned around  
She's got a way of showin'  
How I make her feel  
And I find the strength to keep on goin'_

She was turning him around, inside out and upside down. He was loosing control around her and that could only mean trouble for him. He had no idea what he was doing and that terrified him. He needed Wilson. Wilson would know what to do. But that was the whole point. He wouldn't even be talking to her if Wilson were around. He would have ignored her presence at the hospital and went on with his miserable empty life. At least that's what he told himself.

_She's got a light around her  
And ev'rywhere she goes  
A million dreams of love surround her ev'rywhere_

He wanted to be near her and that he couldn't deny. She had intrigued him from the very first time he spoke to her. But she was 9000 miles away then. She was safe. She was untouchable.

_She comes to me when I'm feelin' down  
Inspires me without a sound  
She touches me and I get turned around_

_  
_He had told Amber on the bus that he was tired of being miserable. There were times when that was true. It was so exhausting to be miserable all of the time. He wanted to feel again. He wanted to feel something other than the pain that constantly plagued him. But he didn't know how. He didn't know how to be that guy.

_She's got a smile that heals me  
I don't know why it is  
But I have to laugh when she reveals me  
She's got a way about her  
I don't know what it is,  
But I know that I can't live without her anyway_

He finished the song and let his hands fall from the keys to his lap in silence. He was playing a game; that's what it started out as, at least. But he was losing. And that he didn't know how to handle. It was uncertain territory that he had no control over. But, he had a choice. He could either finish what he started or run and hide in his misery. He had told One day, One room Girl that the only way to change something was to do something about it. Action caused change. It was the only way. He'd be a hypocrite if he didn't heed his own words. He had to do something. If he didn't, he'd go insane.


	10. Chapter 10 Need Surpasses Reason

Sessions: 10 – Need Surpasses Reason

House limped past Judy's desk and reached out to open the interior door to Cate's office. Judy scurried to stop him. "You can't go in there Dr. House…"

"Go back to work, " he snapped turning the knob.

"She's with a patient, " Judy insisted grabbing his arm to halt his progress.

He glared viciously at the young woman and she removed her hand as if he'd burned her. Throwing the door open, he forced himself into the room. "You don't return my calls, you never write, what the hell's a guy supposed to think…" he announced loudly his voice echoing off the walls of the tiny office.

Cate glared at him from her typical position in the chair. Her patient stared at him slack jawed and befuddled by his sudden entrance. The woman bristled arrogantly once she regained her composure. "Excuse me, who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm sorry Dr. Milton, " Judy apologized lamely. "I couldn't stop him."

"Go. Back. To. Work. " House repeated again as if she were mentally challenged.

"It's not you fault, Judy, " Cate said before leveling her gaze at him. Her next words were directed at her patient but her eye remained sharply focused on him. "This is Dr. House. He's a colleague of mine. He will say good-bye now and come back later."

House pursed his lips together in a frown. "Um, no. I need your specific kind of expertise. Mine takes precedence." He turned to the blubbering patient and smirked.

"House, " Cate warned him. "I'll see you when I'm done with this patient."

"Can't wait, " he blurted. "I need a consult on a patient with Munchausen's."

Cate rolled her eyes. "That's not an emergency. Munchausen's can wait."

He tapped his cane impatiently at her easy dismissal. "Oh, just give her a damn scrip for Wellbutrin so she can stop crying herself to sleep every night because she ate the last twenty cookies in the cookie jar and send her on her way."

"We'll I never, " the woman huffed, grabbing her coat.

"Obviously you do…"

"House?!"

"You'll be hearing from my lawyer, " she exclaimed before hurrying out.

"Yeah, like I've never heard that one before, " he said before turning back to Cate who was now standing in front of him. "Empty threats, you should put that in her file."

"House, what do you want, " Cate demanded clearly not in the mood.

"I told you, I need a consult, " he said simply, peering down at her. Damn, she looked good today. She was wearing a curve hugging clear blue cashmere cardigan over a lace trimmed camisole that skimmed the tops of her breasts and a form fitting cream colored skirt. He bit down on a groan as she placed her hands on her hips drawing the soft fabric tighter across her chest. Dragging his eyes back upward he blinked the vision from his mind, jogging his memory for why he came in here. "She's down in the ER."

"McKinley's working the ER today," Cate said pointedly.

"I know, I wanted you, " he insisted. The irony of that statement not lost on him, either.

She slid him a sidelong glance. "What do you really want House?"

"What makes you think, I want something else, " he asked with a practiced air of innocence that he used for Cuddy.

"Because you're you and you haven't talked to me in three days." She fixed him with a sharp look. She was clearly miffed that he'd walked out after she'd broken off their kiss.

He nodded his head. "Well I'm here now."

"Yes. Yes you are." Her tone was weary.

He drew his attention to the window to remove himself from her intense scrutiny but was assaulted with the memory of kissing her there in the moonlight that had shone through the window. _Actually why was he here_, he asked himself. He did have Munchausen's case in the ER, and McKinley was doing the consult. He really had no reason to be here other than to see her. The Munchausen's case was merely a pretense to come up here. He thought that if he had avoided contact with her for few days he'd be immune to her, but that alas, was not the case.

He watched her move back to her chair and sit down gracefully. She crossed her long legs Mary Hart style and clasped her hands over her knee. And she waited.

He paced back and forth along the back of the couch refusing to sit. His leg was hurting more than usual today and he was too fidgety to sit. Besides, it would make it look like he really did just came here to talk to her.

"What are we doing here House?" she asked when she became impatient with waiting for him to offer a reason for him to barge into her session with another patient.

"What do you mean, " he asked dumbly for clarification purposes.

"What is this thing that we're doing here?" she asked waving her hand between indicating the space between them.

"What is that, psychiatrist sign language for let's get down and do it on the table?" he quipped.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out, " she countered. "We've been through this before. Are you here because you want to get in my pants or do you really want therapy?"

"I never wanted therapy, " he yelled, his ire rising irrationally. "I only wanted to talk to you, to find out things about you. You were the one who turned it into something it wasn't."

"Me? You were not dealing with your guilt over Amber's death and driving Wilson away. You needed to talk it through. Everyone around you could see that."

He stopped pacing. "So sue me… You intrigued me. Since the first time I met you, I was curious about you. I wanted answers."

"So what, I was just another mystery, a puzzle to you?"

"Yeah, I had to know what kind of woman takes her job so seriously that she'd go to the farthest corner of the earth for it. I wanted to know what kind of woman isolates herself from the rest world under the guise of research. Sounds like something I would do, not something a beautiful, intelligent woman would do."

"You have no idea what my motivations were, " she snapped.

"No? But, I bet it had everything to do with an affair you had with a married man?" The second the words tumbled out of his mouth, he regretted it. That was the question that had been burning him all this time. The one true answer he'd sought. And that was not the way to bring it up.

Her eyes grew to the size of black saucers. "You had me investigated?" Her voice dripped with righteous anger. She was standing now with fists clenched in anger.

"Yeah, I had everyone investigated, " he said offhandedly trying to diffuse the situation. Thank God the table and sofa separated them. "You're not special."

"Fuck you, House. Get out of my office!" She might as well have slapped him for the force with which her words hit him was so hard, it stung.

He stared at her in disbelief for a tremulous heartbeat. The muscle in his jaw twitched. She didn't have to tell him twice. He would never forget the look of betrayal in her eyes. He recognized it all too well.


	11. Chapter 11: The Guru

Sessions 11: The Guru

_Note: I moved the events in Lucky Thirteen forward in the time line because I needed a patient and a person for House to take his problems out on. Plus, I consolidated it A LOT… and Wilson's not coming back for a little bit. Enjoy!_

House sat alone in the solitude of his office mulling over what had happened in the past two days. Cate was pissed at him. That much was clear. He had been a real bear to anyone and everyone who crossed his path. His mood was foul and he leg was even worse. The only bright spot in the week thus far was that Thirteen had been out boozing it up and brought home a chick who wound up in the ER. Two things were good about that; 1) they had a patient and 2) visions of lesbians rollicked in his head. But the fun was short lived. She'd been doing drugs and not the pain killing type, the mind altering type. And that was bad for, you know …patients.

"_You're fired, " he had said._

_She stood there at stared at him through her catlike eyes for a long incredulous moment. "You're firing me?" was all she could say._

"_I can only take responsibility for one drug addicted doctor, " he had explained popping two pills for emphasis, "and that one's me." _

Maybe he over reacted, he didn't know. He didn't care right now. He had his own mess to deal with.

He leaned back as far as he could in his desk chair and tossed his red and gray thinking ball high in the air. He tried to hit the ceiling tile to see if he could pop it in. Each time he was able to get it higher yet not quite touching its target. He needed to figure out how to talk to Cate. He needed to make her see that he didn't mean to over step his bounds. Well, actually he did before, but now, he realized that none of that matter to him anymore.

He heard his door open and sensed someone coming to stand impatiently on the other side of the desk. He assumed it was Cuddy coming to complain about his firing Thirteen or to rag about clinic duty so he ignored her and continued his quest to reach the ceiling tile.

"You fired her?" It was Taub. That was a surprise.

"She's reckless and a danger, " House said, not looking at him.

"And you're not, " he countered in a mildly, contemptuous tone before taking a seat.

Sitting forward in his chair with a thud, House placed the ball back on his desk and frowned. "She's going to self destruct. Believe me, I can recognize the signs."

"She's dying, " Taub reminded him unnecessarily.

"I know. Everyone is."

"Some of us sooner than others, " he argued with a touch of sympathy in his voice.

"Yeah well, we all have our crosses to bear, " House said raising an eyebrow at him. Taub shifted in his seat avoiding his eyes. House smirked knowingly. "You told her didn't you?" He had told his wife about the affair.

Taub nodded his head once. "I did."

"And?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"We're working on it, " he replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "We're talking."

House looked at his oldest ducking in confusion. How was this short little unassuming Jewish man the guru of women? How did _he_ get the golden key of knowledge to understand what they wanted and needed, so much so that he could tell his wife the worst thing that she could possibly have expected to hear from her husband and then accept him back willingly and talk it out? It baffled him to no end. "How? How did you get her to want to talk?" he asked in reverential amazement.

Taub's look changed. He narrowed his eyes at him speculatively. A dawn of realization stole across his features. "What did you do?"

House looked uncomfortably at his hands and briefly contemplated skirting the issue. But, he somehow knew he found an unlikely ally in Taub. And considering that Wilson was nowhere to be found, he needed a surrogate external conscience for the time being. He shrugged. "I was just being me, " he said lamely.

Taub smirked and bobbed his head sardonically knowing exactly what he meant. "That's enough…"

House's lips curled into a self-deprecating grin.

"What did you do?" Taub repeated.

"I said something stupid, " he half-admitted and then added, "and she found out I had Lucas investigate her."

Taub grimaced and shook his head. "If you want her to talk, you need to tell her you're sorry."

House closed his eyes made a face. "How did I know you were going to say that?"

Taub grinned. "You asked. It's what I would do. That's how you get her to come to the table. But you're going to do what you always do and not apologize. I'm just saying that's what you _should_ do." He rose from the seat and placed his hands in his trouser pockets. "I know it sounds a lot like a conversation we just had about me. I didn't listen to you and my wife is still here. "

House nodded. Taub had a point and he had to give it to him. His dysfunctional marriage was ironically functional. Whatever he was doing it worked. Taub went to leave the office but House stopped him before he reached the door.

"Taub, do me a favor…"

The man looked at him weirdly, probably never expecting to hear those words come out of his boss' mouth. "Sure…"

"Keep an eye on Thirteen for me."

"Why, so I can't report back to you? I won't do that."

"Just look out for her, ok?" He griped belligerently. Even when he was trying to be nice, people suspected the worst of him. That's why he usually left it to the professionals.


	12. Chapter 12:Inbox1 and the Park

Sessions 12: Inbox (1) and the Park

Cate leaned against the tall counter of the nurses' station and began to chart her patient's folder. Sixteen year old female brought in to ER in respiratory arrest caused by drug over-dose. Started IV fluids and intubated. Pumped charcoal and stomach was emptied. Vitals were now stable.

Dr. Cameron approached the opposite corner with her own chart and smiled.

"How is she," she asked of her drug-teen.

"She'll be admitted for a week and kept under observation, " Cate told her. "I think she's just overwhelmed with school and was looking for a way to relax and over did it."

"The pressure is so high for kids to get into good schools, these days, " Cameron said. "I remember sending out a ton of college applications and scholarship essays. And that was when college cost less than $20,000 a year. I can't image what it's like now."

Cate's cell phone chimed in interrupting their conversation.

_Sing us a song, you're the piano man, Sing us a song tonight…_

She rolled her eyes in irritation and quickly grabbed it to silence it. _House_.

I'm bored

Not interested

Cameron gave her a curious glance. It couldn't have been more obvious who had texted her.

_Sing us a song, you're the piano man, Sing us a song tonight…_

I miss you

Still not interested

_Sing us a song, you're the piano man, Sing us a song tonight…_

Goddamn those ring tones were fucking annoying. She switched it to vibrate but not before she caught a knowing smile cross Cameron's face.

Your ass looks hot in that skirt

Cate snorted in aggravation and looked around to see where he was spying on her from, causing Cameron's eyes to follow her. She couldn't find him anywhere. She wasn't even wearing a skirt today. She had on a full set of pink scrubs with a gray thermal underneath and pair of turquoise crocs.

Umm… right He obviously couldn't see her from where he was.

Cameron leaned a bit closer and smiled sympathetically. "A word of advice?"

Cate looked up at her. "About what?"

"About House, " she said. Her face softened."Be careful with him."

_._

Can we talk?

Cate brought her attention back to Cameron. "I'll be fine."

That will be difficult considering I'm not talking to you right now

Cameron came around to her side of the nurses' station and leaned her elbow onto the counter. "I know, it's just… I know it's none of my business and I can't believe I'm about to say this but…don't hurt him ok?"

Cate stared at her incredulously.

_._

You're talking to me now

Not for long

"Hurt him? Why would I do that?" she asked looking back up Cameron. This was getting ridiculous. She knew it was rude to text while talking. She was becoming irritated with House and at the same time trying to keep her patience with Cameron. She found it odd that the Immunologist was even saying this to her.

_._

Tell me what to do

Figure it out

"Look, Wilson stood here in the same position and told me the same thing four years ago and you know what, he was right… " the younger woman said gently.

_._

I'm an idiot

True but wrong answer

"…He's been through so much and he doesn't deal well with change. And he can't stand to be psychoanalyzed."

_._

I'm an asshole

Getting closer

Cate shifted her position and flipped her chart shut. "I know that. Is that what you think is going on here?" Her patience was wearing really thin.

"I don't know what it is honestly… All I know is that Stacy scarred him both physically and emotionally. It's been almost ten years since his infarction and he still can't handle trusting someone else. He lashes out to protect himself."

_._

I'm sorry

Cate smiled inwardly; apparently he was capable of trusting her enough. She clicked send on her phone and looked back up at Cameron. "And your interest in this is what?"

Right answer

_._

Now can we talk

Cameron had the grace to look embarrassed but continued, "I care about him. I just think he needs…"

Cate raised her hand to stop her. She had heard enough and was truly offended that the blonde woman had interjected herself into her business with House this far. Cameron of all people had no right to expound on what House needed. She may have worked closely with him for three years. She may have also had feelings for him long ago, but that didn't make her right. Cate tossed her chart forcefully onto the countertop. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. She couldn't help herself when she blurted out, "Don't you think that if you knew what he truly needs, then you'd be with him right now instead of Dr. Chase?"

Cameron reeled backward as if she'd been slapped. She opened and closed her mouth a few times and straightened herself. "Hey may not have let me in, but that doesn't mean that sometime he won't let someone else in. When that time comes, I hope you know what you're doing." She slipped her chart forcefully into the complete box and took off into the curtained exam areas.

Yes, we can talk, but I'm working

_._

Meet me outside in the jogging park

Cate smiled. He was never long on patience. And apparently she wasn't long on temper today either.

Be there in 10

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Ten minutes later, Cate had donned her dark purple scarf and walked across the street to the jogging park. House was perched on top of a picnic table. The bright autumn sunlight reflected off of the back of his motorcycle jacket. He looked roguishly handsome as he stared out across the path watching the few runners go by. She felt a stir from those traitorous butterflies again. Damn he was cute. How dare he.

She finally came up along side him. He felt her presence and turned his head to look at her. He smiled causing his eyes to crinkle and little dimples to appear. Holy shit, he was cute. If she was really still mad she wouldn't have had a chance.

"Nice get up, " he said without being shy about checking her out from head to toe.

"No skirt, " she quipped.

"Turn around, " he ordered demonstrating with his finger. She spun around at his bidding. "Your ass looks even better in scrubs."

"Flatterer."Cate laughed self-consciously and hopped up next to him on the table. A shiver rocketed through her body and she crossed her arms tightly against her stomach. "It's getting cold."

"Shoulda worn a jacket, " he snarled gently.

"I know. So let's make this quick, " she complained. "You wanted to talk, let's talk."

House looked downward at his hands, a myriad of emotions moving over his face. "I don't do apologies well… actually, I don't do them at all."

Cate knew this was very difficult for him. Not for empathy but support, she put her hand on his, her own cold fingers warming against his skin. He laced his fingers with hers tentatively at first and when she smiled at him in response he clasped her hand tighter bringing it to his thigh. The back of her hand rested against the warmth of his jeans and she could feel the deep indentation of where his quadricep used to be. She didn't dare move a muscle lest he retreat back into his shell.

He turned his head and held her gaze in his clear blue eyes. "I like you."

A slow smile reached its ways across her lips. "I liked you, too."

"Good." He nodded. "I'm no good at this whole relationship thing."

Cate involuntarily moved in a little closer into his warmth threading her other arm around his. He stomach a riot of feelings trapped inside. "I know. I'm not so good at it either."

"Good, then I won't be the only screw up, " he muttered.

He was trying and that made her happy. It was a little disarming, however. So many things had been going through her mind over the past few days since they had their spat. She had been so angry when she discovered that he had her investigated. She wasn't sure why she was surprised by his actions or why she couldn't believe that he would have gone to such lengths to get some dirt on her. It was typical House. She's known he'd investigated his whole team. She should have seen it coming and she was just as mad at herself for not. It didn't change the fact that it bothered her he found out about her relationship with Bill. She was not prepared to discuss that with him. She felt deceived. "You hurt me, " she said simply.

He hung his head avoiding her eye contact. "I know, " his voice trailed off. "It's what I do… when I like you."

Cate flashed back to Cameron's admonishment about him. _He_ _lashes out to protect himself. _"Cameron warned me not to hurt you."

House rolled his eyes. "Ignore her."

She gave him a sheepish grin. "I was a bit of a bitch."

He smiled proudly. "That's my girl."

She shook her head. "She's right you know…" He screwed his face up in disagreement. "You're a fear biter."

"A what?" He looked at her like she was the crazy one.

"You're like a Rottweiler. You have this really scary persona that everyone else sees but what you really want is to be loved and understood, but that scares the crap out of you so you lash out and bite people out of fear. I saw it on the _Dog Whisperer_." He lifted an eyebrow at her rather unconventional, pop-culture analogy. She continued to explain, "There was this young girl who took care of this aggressive Rottweiler. She wanted to keep him but it just wasn't a right fit so she wanted him to go to a good home where people understood him. But, he had to learn how to trust people first."

House tipped his head in consideration. "So, if I'm the dog in this story, the girl is you?"

Cate shook her head. "No, the girl is Cameron, I'm Cesar."

A protective dawn of understanding arrived on his face."So, you're going to fix me."

"No," she said vehemently. "I understand you. I don't want you to change." She held his eyes for a steady moment to help him believe her. "I've told you before, you don't need fixing. I just need you to trust me so you don't fear bite me again."

His eyes softened and he nodded, understanding. Then after a second he smirked, "So, can I bite you in other ways?"

Cate laughed out loud and leaned into his shoulder shoving him a bit. "That's up for negotiation later on."

"Wanna play hookie for the rest of the afternoon, " he asked staring back out to the running path.

"Nope, can't." She rose from the table to start heading back. It was way to cold for her out here and she needed to get back.

"You're such a grown up, " he said in mock disappointment. Reaching out her grabbed for her and pulled her back into the circle of his legs. Her stomach somersaulted as he held her close to him warming her with his touch. "Dinner later?"

"Nope, can't." Her voice was getting breathy. Oh my God, she was such a girl.

"Why not?" this time the disappointment was real.

"Do you think I'm wearing these pretty pink scrubs because I like how the color enhances my complexion? I'm doing a double shift tonight in the ER. We can do dinner another time."

"Ok, " he acquiesced not letting go of her. "Soon."

He leaned in a trailed his stubbly jaw against the soft skin of her neck pushing away the knit scarf with his chin. He nibbled at the tender pulse point and growled. Giggling at his playfulness and the tingles of desire bursting into flames where his mouth was, she pulled away and smacked at his shoulder. "Hey, behave."

"Screw negotiations. I want to bite you now." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her and went to nibble at her other side. She let him trace the corner of her jawline up to the edge of her mouth before she broke free from his embrace. "Tease."

She giggled again like a teenager, for the love of God. "House I have to get back to work."

"Traitor, " he griped.

"I know, I won't tell Cuddy your out here, though. It'll be my own special favor to you." She winked at him and started back to the ER entrance.

"I can think of twenty different favors you could do for me, all of a sexual nature…" she heard him call after her as she walked on. Beaming like the warm sunshine that skated across the afternoon sky, Cate placed her sleeve covered hand over her jaw where he had kissed her and smiled deeply for the first time in a long time.

A/N I hope the text/Cate/Cameron conversation wasn't too confusing to read. In my head it all makes sense. I know House might be a little out of character, but I like the idea of 'Playful House'. It's maybe a side we don't get to see. Hope all is well… PS. Thanks again to all of those who've reviewed and added my story to their alerts, it makes me feel warm inside!!


	13. Chapter 13: Apologies

Sessions 13: Apologies

Cate slipped on her boot and pulled the hem of her jeans down over it as she dressed in her street clothes at the end of a long and disturbing night in the ER. She rose slowly from the bench in the doctors' locker room and tugged the bottom of her grey baggy cashmere sweater down over her waistband. She ran a hand through her long limp hair and stared at her reflection in the tiny mirror magnetized to the inside of her locker. She looked exhausted. Her dark circles had dark circles and her lips were about as pale as her face. She could use a hot shower, or at the very least run a brush through her hair and slap on some lip-gloss. But, it was midnight and she had no one to impress at this hour. So she slammed her locker shut and turned to go.

Dr. Cameron had just entered the locker room to change. She frowned thinly at Cate in a businesslike form of acknowledgment and went about her own business at her locker. Cate felt terrible for her poor excuse of an attitude earlier today when she so rudely berated Cameron for just being nice and caring about a friend, more specifically, House. Cate was a bitch and she knew it. She had no excuse.

Slipping on her short leather jacket, she wound her purple scarf twice around her neck before grabbing her purse. She took a few steps to close the distance between Cameron and herself before speaking. "Look Allison, I'm really sorry for what I said to you earlier. You were just being nice and I snapped at you for no reason. It was uncalled for and I apologize."

Cameron stopped removing her shoes and smiled ruefully at Cate. "It's ok. I over stepped and I shouldn't have."

Cate shook her head. "No, you care about him and that's important. I was cranky and frustrated and took it out on you."

"I should be used to it, he used to do it to me all the time, " Cameron said with a wistful smile.

"I think I might be a little jealous that you have a history with him, " Cate admitted to Cameron as much as to herself.

Cameron softened and placed a reassuring outstretched hand on her arm. "You shouldn't be. He never felt anything for me."

Cate looked at the other woman empathizing with her and her woefully unresolved feelings. "Don't believe that. It's not true."

She shrugged her small shoulders as if she were giving up. "Well, it doesn't matter now because he definitely has something going on for you. I've never seen him this way…well, I take that back. He was kind of like this when Stacy came back, but with you it's different. It's not manipulative and twisted like that was. With you, it's almost healthy."

Cate laughed, knowing full well how sick and twisted things could get with House when he wanted something. "That's reassuring…I think."

Cameron laughed and put her shoes back on. "Come on it's late. I'm going home as is. I'll walk with you to our cars."

Cate nodded. "Deal."

Cameron grabbed her coat and purse and the two made their way out of the hospital. "How's the cat by the way?"

Cate smiled warmly. "She's great. I named her Ginger."

"That's cute, Ginger because she's reddish orange?"

"No, because she actually reminds me of Ginger from _Gilligan's Island_, if you can believe it, " Cate said with a chuckle.

"That's kind of… weird."

"She's very seductive. I think I'm going to have to get her fixed very soon."

"Reason number thirty-five why Chase won't let me have a cat, " Cameron said with a laugh. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, a strange look coming over her face. "Oh my God, I keep passing on my strays to you. You should really watch out for me…"

Laughing, Cate paused. "As long as you keep Chase, because I've got my hands full with House and the cat already. Can't do another one, " she said in jest.

Cameron laughed and opened the door to her car. "Don't worry I'm keeping Chase."

Cate opened the door to her Land Rover and paused. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure."

Cate smiled and rolled her eyes at her own embarrassment. "Can you tell me where House lives?"

A big smile spread over the other woman's face. "No problem…"


	14. Chapter 14: The Phillies, Really?

Sessions 14: The Phillies, Really?

_I do have to apologize…I'm such a potty mouth!! My story is rated T because I don't really think I'll be getting into too much smut. It's a love story not a porno, much to House's dismay, he doesn't like it when I make him all emotional, but I tell him shut up, that's too bad. Anywhoo… the Fuck word just has so many wonderful grammatical qualities. And I love it! Besides I think my 9 year old said fuck the other day…what is this world coming to, honestly…_

House crossed his legs on the coffee table and took another sip of his bourbon. He was lounging comfortably on the sofa watching the Phillies game. They were up two nothing in the bottom of the 6th. Two outs and Manny Ramirez was at bat; the count was 1 – 2. Hammels pitched a rocket fastball over the plate and damn it, homerun. _Fucking Manny_.

There was a knock at his door. Stupidly he craned his neck over the sofa to look at the door as if it were transparent and he could see who was on the other side. There was another knock and he sighed heavily looking at the digital time on his TiVo. 12:15AM. Who the hell was knocking on his door at this hour? If it was one of the ducklings, there was going to be clinic duty to pay.

Hoisting his bum leg off the table he stood, stumbled before regaining his balance and trod awkwardly over to the door. "This better be good, " he griped.

He swung the door open. He reeled back a touch because he couldn't believe his eyes. It was Cate. Stunned, he watched her confidently stride into his living room in a pair of ridiculously sexy jeans and sassy leather jacket with that dumb purple scarf from earlier. She was gorgeous as hell.

"Put your shoes on, we're going for drinks, " she ordered gently coming to a stop at the back of the sofa.

"Umm, I'm half in the bag already, " he declared closing the door and hop stepping it back around to the sofa.

"Then I have some catching up to do, " she muttered and turned to look at the TV. "Oh, shit the Phillies are on. It's Game 5 of the NLCS. If they win this, they go to the World Series. I can't believe I forgot."

"You like baseball?" he slipped on his sneakers without hesitation.

"Phillies fanatic, born and raised, " she said taking a blatant gander at his apartment.

_Hmm, baseball fan_. House twisted his mouth into an impressed grin and rose to retrieve his leather jacket from the coat rack. "Manny just hit a homer off of Hammels."

She shook her head. "Fucking Manny. I hate that guy."

"You and the rest of the his former American League competitors, " he said grabbing his cane and clicking off the television before ushering her out of the door. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"A shitty day at work. I need a stiff drink and some good company, " she explained.

"How about some _stiff_ company and a good drink, " he waggled is eyebrows punctuating his innuendo. "Those jeans are making me feel a little frisky."

"I saw a little sports bar around the corner, " she ignored his comment and stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Do you know it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know it."

They walked at a casual pace down the sidewalk that led past his building and around the corner. It was a quite chilly out since it was the middle of the night. He could see her breath as she breathed into the cold night air next to him. She looked cold but didn't complain. Spontaneously, he grabbed her hand and laced his fingers in hers. She glanced at him and smiled. Something warm stirred inside him. It must have been the Vicodin and bourbon having a conversation because it certainly wasn't his pre-pubescent sentimentality talking.

After a few minutes, they finally reached Fletcher McGee's Pub. The place was crowded tonight, no doubt because of the game. Every table and spot at the bar was filled. The game played noisily on all three of the large plasma screens over the bar and in the corner by the karaoke machine. Cate, still holding tightly onto his hand, threaded their way through the crowd to the bar. She let go as they had to let a waitress with a loaded tray of beers pass through. He kept an eye on her watching intently as she slid up along side a young guy in a Phillies jersey and tattered ball cap drinking a beer on a stool at the bar with is buddies.

"Hey, would you mind giving a lady a seat, " she asked coquettishly slipping her hand slowly up his bicep to his shoulder. House watched in amazement as the dude was entranced by her within seconds and got up to give her his barstool. "Thanks so much." She added a saucy grin and a wink and he could swear the kid actually blushed. She shifted the stool to her left side and waited for him to reach her. Taking her coat off, she placed it on the back of the stool. "Look, honey, I found you a seat, " she said loudly offering him her chair.

"Hey!" The young guy looked like he'd had parking space stolen from him at the mall. House shrugged and held up his cane to make the kid feel like more of an ass.

"My friend here can't stand for long periods of time, get over it, " she said turning her attention back to House as he sat down, removing his own coat.

"Thanks, " he muttered. He wasn't accustomed to having someone watch out for him or accommodate him because of his leg. It was a little weird. He was quickly over it however when she positioned herself in front of him in between his legs, flagging the bartender down to order drinks. Her pert denim covered ass rubbed enticingly against his inner thighs. This he could get used pretty damn fast.

Harry, the bartender, approached. "What's up Doc? Haven't seen you for a while."

House shook the burly man's proffered hand. "Been busy, Harry. I will have the usual and the lady will have…"

"An Irish car bomb, " she stated.

House eyed her, once again she surprised him. "Actually make that two."

"Alright then, " Harry said, giving House an approving glance before going off to get their drinks.

"You really do need a stiff drink, " he said when she turned around to face him. "What's wrong?"

"It was a crazy night in the ER, " she said lowering her eyes reflectively. "I'm normally not effected by the stupid things people do but, tonight… was just hard."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he found himself asking before he could stop himself.

"Let's see, I had a three homeless people looking for a bed because it's getting cold out, two meth addicts, a bulimic who swallowed a fork because her gag reflex is shot, a guy who had a nervous break-down at a gas station because it cost him $120.00 to fill up his Tahoe so he set the pump on fire and a twelve-year old who hung herself from the balcony over her parents living room. And it's only a Wednesday." She gave him a little smile and straightened the unruliness of his collar. "To think that you're special kind of warm fuzzies is my idea of a pick me up."

"Who knew, " he quipped. Harry returned with their drinks and he received a proverbial "thumbs up" from behind Cate's back before she turned to face the bar. The bartender set up the two half pints of Guinness and then filled the shot glasses with whisky and Bailey's. Bringing his attention back to the lovely woman standing between his thighs, House raised his two glasses waiting for her to do the same. "Here's to forgetting about the day and the Phillies."

"Amen, " Cate said dropping her shot in immediately chugging her pint down like a college frat partying aficionado. House followed suit slamming his glass down on the bar when he was done. She smiled dreamily at him and trailed her finger along his upper lip before licking off the chocolaty tasting foam. His breath caught at the top of his lungs at her bold move.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back to my place to watch the rest of the game. There's a lot less people and we could be doing this naked?"

"Which is exactly why we should stay right where we are, " she said. "I don't do my best thinking when I'm naked."

"Are you sure, because I'm brilliant enough for the both of us when I'm in the buff?"

She laughed a deep throaty chuckle that nearly sent him dragging her home like a caveman by her hair. "Yeah, I'm sure. I don't want to screw this up with you because we had premature nakage, if you know what I mean."

"Then you're going to have to move out from between my legs, sweetheart."

A beautiful flush spread over her cheeks as the effects of the car bomb and his words hit her. Realizing his full meaning, she gracefully moved positions to stand to the right side of his legs. He felt a little awkward having her so close to his damaged thigh but she seemed to be blissfully unaware of it at the moment. She touched her hands to his arm instead and he watched her watching the television across the bar. The tension was draining from her face leaving her relaxed and joyous. Regretting that he had talked her out of her intimate proximity to him, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back into the V space of his thighs. She blinked her eyes heavily at him and then without aying a word leaned against him with her back nuzzling contentedly into his chest. She tipped her head back onto his should and held onto his fingers at her waist happily fixing her attention to the game. He had never felt such comfort with a display of public affection before. With her, it seemed incredibly natural. No, she was right. They definitely shouldn't screw this up with premature "nakage", no matter how much he wanted to throw her up on the bar and ravage her until she screamed out his name in ecstacy.

Lidge was coming in for the ninth inning. Loney singled and then Blake and Kemp both flew out to Victorino in center field. Garciaparra was up. First pitch was a ball, second a fastball: called strike, another ball, a slider: called strike and then a ball in the dirt. Then ,finally, he hit a pop fly and Ruiz ran out to foul territory, Rollins and Lidge coming in, all of them with their eyes glued to the ball. Ruiz caught it and sunk to his knees. The Phillies were going to the World Series.

Cate jumped up and screamed. The whole place erupted with cheering and shouts of victory. For the first time since the early nineties, the Phillies were going to the big show. Cate, thrilled, grabbed him by the neck and kissed him squarely on the mouth in her elation. This was a huge triumph to everyone in the room and most evidently to her. He kissed her back and then smiled when she pulled away.

"Oh my god, I can't believe they did it!"

He nodded his head unable to speak. Something vibrated against his groin. He screwed his face into a perplexed sidelong glance. He knew he'd had a lot to drink this evening but vibrations like that only came from battery powered devices.

"Is that your phone?" he queried.

She laughed and removed it from her jeans pocket. "Yes. Excuse me, " she said answering it.

"Dad? Hi – Yes! Can you believe it?" She placed her finger in her other ear and shouted into the phone. "What? I know, 15 years - I heard Hammels was amazing. No, didn't see the beginning of the game. Yeah, wish I was there too…" she looked at House. Her eyes told him she was lying to her father and that she was happier right where she was with him. "Where am I? I'm in a bar – yes, yes, I know, Dad. Ok, I will… don't worry I have a bodyguard and he's pretty ferocious." House snarled his teeth at her playfully and she stifled a giggle. "I'll be ok. Alright, love you too – bye."

She clicked the phone off and stuck it back into her pants pocket. "I'm almost forty and he's still protecting me." A round of shots was placed on the bar before them. The whole bar cheered and partook in a celebratory shot of tequila.

Placing his glass onto the bar he asked, "Does he frequently call you at 1:15 AM to talk baseball?"

She shook her head and laughed. "No, only the last two division series. Baseball keeps us close, " she explained and placed her own glass down. "When I was a little girl, every night there was a game, I would curl up on his lap and watch the first two innings before I'd pass out and he'd put me to bed. He would tell me in the morning how fantastically they had won. So, I never knew how bad the Phillies really sucked until I got much older. But, by then it was a dysfunctional, enabling relationship I couldn't break free from. I loved them because my dad loved them. And here we are…"

"That's a tragic story."

"But sometimes, they have happy endings."

"It'll only be a happy ending if they beat the Red Sox in the World Series."

"It's going to be Tampa Bay, " she said confidently. "They're good but they're green."

"I don't know…" he said skeptically.

"We should make a bet, " she challenged.

"Oh yeah, what are the stakes?"

"If I win, you have to do four hours of clinic duty without a single complaint, " she declared.

"Cuddy?" he said quizzically pretending to look around for his nemesis.

"Just helping the woman out a little , " she said with a silly laugh.

"Ok, fine, if I win, then you have to do four hours of clinic for me, wearing one of those naughty nurse uniforms, " he added with a sly grin.

"Only if the clinic's in your apartment."

"It might as well be, I feel like I live there, " he whined. "Deal?"

"Deal, except no naughty nurse's uniform." She yawned unexpectedly and then giggled leaning her head into his shoulder.

"Time to go Cinderella, " he said reaching around to put his jacket on and then helping her into hers. Carefully he led her back out onto the sidewalk into the crisp night air. He needed the fresh slap in the face to keep his mind functioning soundly instead of on the extremely gorgeous, tipsy woman, now clutching onto his free arm for balance. "You're a light weight, you know."

"The last thing I ate was around 9:30." She said in response.

"No driving home for you tonight, " he told her as they rounded the corner of his building coming up to his stoop.

"Sounds like a plan, " she mumbled letting him usher her back into his apartment.

He switched on the lights and helped her out of her jacket before giving her a light shove in the direction of his bedroom.

"I'm not having sex with you, " she stated but didn't protest as he gave her firmer pressure to move forward.

"I know, we're going to sleep," he told her guiding her to the bed. Once she was safely seated, he grabbed her a t-shirt and a pair of jammie pants and tossed them onto the bed for her. "Get changed, I'm going to lock up." Grabbing his own jammie pants he went into the bathroom to change and take of his business before he hobbled back into the living room to put on the deadbolt and turn out the lights. He paused before making his way back down the short hall to his room and rubbed his hand over his face cursing himself for what he was about to do. If Wilson knew that he was about to curl up along side a sexy, perfectly healthy woman and not have sex with her, he would never let him hear the end of it. He would spew words like chivalrous…gentleman…blah…blah…blah.

He wrapped lightly on the door with the back of his knuckles. She called for him to come in, as strange as that was to be invited into his own bedroom. She sat crossed legged in the middle of his bed. He realized then that he had given her his favorite T-shirt, The WHO. This kiss of death for any band was when you gave your girlfriend your favorite band shirt. Fuck, he'd just called her his girlfriend and broke up the WHO in one fell swoop.

She smiled an awkward little smile at him. "Thank you for letting me stay."

Limping with difficulty to the bed without his cane, he collapse heavily into bed and motioned for her to get under the covers. "It was all a ruse to keep you as my prisoner. Now that you've entered the lair, you'll be a slave to my every whim." She laughed tiredly and climbed under the covers with a yawn.

He reached over and turned out the light leaning back against his pillow. Easily, she rolled to her side and placed her head on his chest draping her arm over his stomach as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He pulled her in tight with his arm placed his hand over hers on his belly quickly falling into a deep and restful slumber.


	15. Chapter 15: Vacation Day

Sessions 15: Vacation

_Thank you to all of you who have reviewed. Your comments make me happy. I'm having so much fun writing this story and I'm glad you guys are enjoying it too! Lurv and kisses…enjoy._

"Which one of you knows what kind of twisted game House is playing at now?" Cuddy stormed into Diagnostics at 8:30 AM on Thursday morning. The ducklings gawked at her with wide eyes as they settled into their usual morning routine of coffee, casual conversation and waiting for their illustrious leader to deign to show up to work.

"Take your pick, it could be any number of retarded games he's playing, " Thirteen offered from her seat at the clear conference table. She herself looked like she had just rolled out of bed and was main-lining caffeine for salvation.

"We don't really know what you're talking about, " Foreman told her from his position by the coffee machine.

"House has texted in a vacation day, " she announced incredulously, eyes beseeching the four doctors for some kind of clarification.

Taub snorted a laugh and Kutner looked confused, like he always did.

"And at 8:30 in the MORNING?" she hissed.

"He's up that early, " Kutner questioned.

Foreman shrugged. "So he took a day off, this surprises you?"

"Yes, " Cuddy snapped. "The man has 132 banked vacation days. You know better than anyone that he won't go anywhere unless he's drugged, gagged and forced at gun point. He doesn't just use a vacation day."

"Maybe there's a Monster truck rally marathon on Spike, " Kutner suggested finally catching up with the conversation.

Thirteen rolled her eyes. "You're such a tool."

Taub took a seat at the table with a pleased little smile. "Let him have the day. It's not like we have a patient anyway."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him. "You know something."

He held his hands up in defense. "I honestly don't know where he is. You're just wierded out because he went through official channels and actually told you he wasn't coming in."

The hospital administrator stared at him suspiciously as if she were trying to pick his brain with her Jedi mind control and then backed off when she came up with nothing. "Fine. But, if I find out that he's up to something and one of you knows, you're responsible, " she pointed her finger stringently at Foreman.

Foreman nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, what else is new."

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The morning sunlight shone brightly through the curtains bouncing happily off the walls of House's Spartan bedroom. The resounding alarm clock in his leg was giving him his morning wake-up call but he was trying his damnedest to ignore it. He was enjoying himself much too much lolling in and out of dream land. He felt a stir from the sleeping form tucked perfectly against his front like spoons in the kitchen drawer. His arms reflexively pulled her tighter to him.

He could hear her smile into the pillow they were sharing and let out a little chuckle. "Is that a cane in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" Her voice was husky from sleep and it fit into his dream oh so perfectly.

"Shhh, go back to sleep, I'm dreaming about having sex with you, " he admonished happily into her hair.

She let out a full laugh. "Well in that case, " she said and then wiggled her bottom against him pressing herself further into his embrace.

It had been a long, long, long time since he'd woken up with a woman in his arms. It felt nice, really nice.

Suddenly she pulled away from him and hopped out of bed. The magic of his little cocoon was broken. "Hey, come back to bed… it's too early to be getting up."

"Sorry, pee break, had too much to drink last night, " she said padding her way quickly to his bathroom.

He rolled onto his back and flicked an eye over to check the time. 8:25AM. This was earlier than normal, but not terrible. Maybe he could convince Cate to come back to bed and they could sleep for a while longer. She had worked a double yesterday so that meant that she was off today. An idea popped into his head and he reached for his cell phone.

Not coming in. Vacation day.

He powered the cell phone off and unplugged his landline phone effectively cutting off all communication with his witchy tormenter who no doubt was trying to call him this very minute. This was his day and he didn't want her cackling what-the-hell-do-you-think-you're-doing voice ruining it. He reached for his Vicodin and swallowed two to shut up the rising pain in his leg. At that moment, Cate padded back into the room and climbed back into bed snuggling under the covers like a little kid at a sleep over. "Wanna play hookie today?"

"Way ahead of you, already texted Cuddy, " he told her rolling onto his side facing her as he mimicked her pose.

"I have today off, " she said a impish gleam in her eye.

"I figured, " he said. "We should do something fun."

"We could ride along the countryside on your motorcycle. It's beautiful out now with all of the leaves changing colors, " she suggested and then pouted a little in disappointment when he made a disinterested face. "What, I haven't seen New Jersey in over ten months, trapped at the frigid gray South Pole. It could be fun."

"You know that's something gay that Wilson would enjoy."

"You now it's only gay if you want Wilson wrapped around you on the back of your motorcycle, with me it's a panty peeler."

"Let's go, " he said excitedly flipping the sheets back and sitting up to get out of bed. She let out a musical laugh and tugged him back down to the mattress by his arm.

"Not right now, crazy man, " she urged nuzzling into the space between his arm and torso. "Right now, I want to go back to sleep for a while."

"Fine, " he acquiesced. He relaxed back into the pillow and curled his arms around her resting his stubbly chin against her hair. He breathed her in deeply into his lungs. She even smelled good after sleeping all night, in his bed, in his clothes. He briefly lamented the impending break-up of the WHO but really didn't care because she looked damn hot in his t-shirt when she came back into the room from the bathroom. A strong wave of possessiveness swept over him as if wearing that t-shirt had branded her his woman somehow.

Not enjoying where his thoughts were going he closed his eyes against the disquieting moment. He lay quietly listening to her breath evenly against his chest rhythmically dragging him into the same slumber. Sleeping was good; it's what he wanted to do in the first place. Sleeping like this was even better.


	16. Chapter 16: Moving Foward

Sessions 16: Moving Forward

_A/N: Beware…this gets pretty angsty. But they need to get it out o they can move….you guessed it… forward._

Cate held on tight as House zipped past the rolling expanse of amber tinted fields. The colors of autumn flashed before her in a riot of siennas, maroons and golds through the clear plastic of her helmet visor. The motor of the bike hummed like a panther beneath their thighs as it effortlessly transported them along the winding fence lined road. The view before her was as quintessential as a Thanksgiving Day greeting card, corny but exceptionally beautiful nonetheless. She hadn't felt this alive since before she'd packed her things and gone to Antarctica. Not since she'd said goodbye to Bill. She hugged herself tighter to the amazing man sitting before her and he dropped the hammer rocketing them faster down the stretch of asphalt. She could feel his laughter rumble through his back and into her chest and she sighed contentedly sinking into his warmth.

House was brilliant and complex, so irreverent and an unmitigated challenge. She found herself more and more attracted to him as the days went by. He had a way of drawing her into his gravity, tugging on her like a life force. He made her forget about why she left and how isolated she felt in that frigid place. He lived in the now, despite the truckloads of baggage he carried around with him every day. He welcomed spontaneity of spirit and he looked at her like she was the only woman in the room. She reveled in it, unashamed and uninhibited.

He was not her typical choice in a man. He didn't say nice things to her, he wasn't particularly charming even though he thought he was and he thoroughly annoyed her. Yet, she couldn't help but want to be with him. He made her laugh and he intrigued her. And those damn blue eyes and ruggedly handsome scruff. That, those two things combined together, made her melt.

Cate promised herself that she wouldn't over-analyze the situation, like she always did. She forced herself to slow down and let things happen as they may, which she usually couldn't do. She was truthful to him and for the first time, herself, when she told him that she didn't want to screw this up with sex, like she did all her other relationships. She could lose her heart to him if she wasn't careful and she didn't want to be another one of his drive-by victims when he freaked out because he was feeling too much or getting in too deep, which was entirely inevitable. She had only just gotten her heart back from the devastation with Bill and she kind of missed it. She planned on keeping it safe for a while. It was sequestered to watch from the sidelines while she went out and had fun, but that was all. Her heart was off the market and she planned on keeping it that way.

House slowed the bike to a normal speed as they entered the gate to the Washington Crossing State park. She sat up looking around curiously at their surroundings noticing various signs indicating that this was the site where George Washington had crossed the Delaware during the Revolutionary war. He pulled into a spot at the edge of what looked like a picnic area and turned off the bike. Swinging her right leg, she stepped off the bike and went to remove her helmet. Her fingers fumbling, she struggled in vain with the chin strap because he had tightened it so much when he slapped the helmet onto her head before they left his apartment. She felt like a five year old stuck in a giant helmet. Coming to her rescue, he undid his handiwork and smiled down at her before taking his cane off of its mount on the side of the bike.

"Come on let's go Thumbelina, I need to stretch out my leg."

Cate watched him dry swallow two Vicodin before limping ahead of her down the path that led to the water's edge. She quickstepped it to catch up with him, always amazed at how fast he moved for someone with a bad leg. Closing the distance between them, she fell easily into step beside him.

"I've never been here before, " she said admiring their surroundings.

"I have, " he responded.

They walked in silence for a while down the dirt trail under the canopy of changing leaves.

"I used to come here and run."

Cate looked at him from the corner of her eye. There was nothing to read on his face he just stared out to the path ahead of them lost in thought.

"After I was shot and I had feeling back in my leg, I ran and ran and ran." He snorted a derisive laugh. "_Run Forrest, run_…" He shook off his contemplative anger and became wistful. "For two months strait I was pain free. Drug free. For the first time in six years, I didn't have to wake up and massage the blood flow back into my leg for a half a hour to break up the stiffness. I didn't have to take twenty Vicodin a day to control the war raging inside my leg and my head. Life was so… easy."

Cate remained silent. He had never talked about his leg before in all of their "sessions". He never once touched on how he felt or had to deal with his pain and how it affected his life. It was coming out unprompted and unhindered so she just let him talk.

"So I ran. I ran here, I ran to work, at the jogging park we were at yesterday, all along the river trails. I felt so good, so alive. Did you know that if you skateboard on campus the college chicks dig that?"

"I think it's when you flirt with those baby-blues, " she said touching her hand briefly to his. He smiled shyly and looked away uncomfortable with the compliment.

After a moment he continued. "But, alas, all good things come to an end and the pain came back, slowly at first and then within two weeks it was back for good. I was back to twenty Vicodin a day and then some. I started to spiral out of control. I was verbally abusive. I stole prescription pads from Wilson and forged his signature. I almost went to jail for ten years. I checked myself into rehab to avoid incarceration which in and of itself is incarceration, just meaningless drivel to break you down so you guys can rebuild us in a different mind set."

"You're an addict, that's the only way to get clean, to break the cycle, " she said.

"Spoken like a true believer, " he said. "The problem is that my pain will never go away. The only thing that works is Vicodin or morphine, but the risks are too high."

"The risks for Vicodin are also high, " she pointed out.

"There's less of a chance that my liver will fail than me over-dosing on a morphine self-injection because I've had a bad day." His voice was pointed and cold, it wasn't laced with sarcasm like he usually spoke, this was laced with truth.

"Have you thought about doing that, " she asked him carefully.

He looked at her for a beat. "Yeah. I have."

From the sidelines where her heart was supposed to be sitting, it squeezed tightly in her chest for him but she knew that she had to be careful because he would mistake her empathy for pity. "What stops you?"

He halted in his path and stared at her. About twelve different expressions ran over his face like a montage of questions, he apparently hadn't expected her to ask him that. "What stops me? I- I don't know."

She slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and faced him. "Something has to stop you from ending it all, the pain, the depression, the nonsense, all of it?"

He looked at her, rather looked through her. He was searching his own mind for an answer. "I suppose it's always bad timing, " he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Just when I'm … Someone always calls… there's always a patient that needs me." His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion.

"So there's always something greater, something bigger and more important than yourself?"

"Maybe, " he said looking at the ground as if it held the answers to the universe. "You're doing that thing again where you phrase your questions like statements."

"Yeah, and now you're deflecting."

His eyes slammed back up to meet her face. "What do you want me to say – Yes, there's stuff out there that's more important then my pathetic life, the world needs me so I should get over myself and stop wallowing in self-pity." His voice was escalating with every word.

"That sounds like a start, " she pressed.

His temper flared like a back draft and she stepped back to prepare herself for the flashover. "Maybe I do know that, that I've done more great things in my life than half the pathetic losers out there could ever even hope to achieve, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm a cripple and I live in excruciating pain every single day of my life and that maybe on some of the really, really bad days I'd rather die just to make it stop." He stopped yelling and stood there, his breathing heavy and his eyes flashing. Some of the tension drained from his face and he took a shuddering breath.

She smiled warmly at him. "Did it feel good to get that out?"

"No, " he griped.

"Liar, " she grinned.

He smiled reluctantly, indicating that she was right. "You're a pain in the ass."

"I know, " she said saucily and looped her arm through his. "You hang around me because you secretly like to talk to me."

They moved toward a clearing by the bank of the river where there were some park benches. "No, I like to hang around you because you're a sexy minx and you're pretty to look at."

"What ever it takes, " she said taking a seat.

He sat down beside her and looked out over the river. "I don't like to talk about these kinds of things, " he said.

"I know. And I'm not going to sit here and give you the line of bullshit about how it's better for you to get it out instead of holding it in, " she said. "No matter who you are, it sucks dredging up all that shit from your past, the stuff you work hard everyday to forget about so you can just get through the day and maybe even your life. It's not fun and it's not easy. But the fact that you trusted me enough to tell me that stuff, that's a big deal."

"I didn't just fear bite you?" he asked with a bit of uncertainty.

"No, that was pure trust. The fact that it came out in frustration and anger doesn't mean anything. I'm tougher than that."

He gazed at her searching her face with his stormy eyes. She smiled self-consciously under the intense scrutiny. It was quite unsettling when he directed his entire attention on one sole thing and that thing was her. His eyes swept a path from her eye lids down her nose to her mouth. Her skin burned along the trail of his gaze and she nearly caught fire when he brought his hand up to cup the back of her head bringing his lips down onto hers. There was nothing tentative or soft about this kiss. He was confident and sure and thorough stroking the flames of her desire like gasoline. The intensity of what she was feeling for him sent a shiver down her spine. She brought her hands to the side of his face deepening the kiss further moving closer and closer into him.

Cate was practically in his lap when he pulled away from her, breathing heavily. He took both of her hands in his and placed a little kiss on the palm of each. "You're hands are freezing."

"I'm cold, " she said absent mindedly. Which was odd because she felt like everything was on fire.

"Cate, it's not that cold out here, " he told her.

"I don't know, I get cold easily. My hands and feet especially, " she said by way of explanation.

He grabbed her hands and inspected them clinically, all traces of the intimacy they just shared gone. "Your hands are white and you see here where your pinky and ring finger a turning blue, " he pointed out and showed them to her.

"Yeah, " she said, "it's been happening a lot since I've been back from Antarctica." She didn't understand why he was making such a big deal out of it. She hadn't been able to warm up since she been back. She figured it was just a physiological reaction to being stuck there for so long.

"You have Raynaud's disease."

"What?" she questioned. What the hell was he talking about? Her hands were just cold.

"Oh, yeah, that's right; I forgot you weren't a real doctor." She made a face at him, telling him she didn't appreciate his condescension. "Raynaud's is and autoimmune disorder that tricks the body into thinking that it's a lot colder than it really is. The blood flow to the extremities i.e. fingers and toes, is restricted causing a reaction like frostbite. You feel cold and numbness, which is why you couldn't take off your helmet before."

"So what do I do, " she asked. Looked at her white fingers. It was funny how she never noticed it before.

"Nothing, " he said and unzipped his jacket slipping her hands inside and underneath his arms. "Move to Florida. Or you can keep you're extremities warm, wear mittens and warms socks, stay away from cold places."

"How did I get this, " she asked him curiously feeling her hands start to burn like she'd been playing in the snow for hours and just come inside.

"There's no definitive reason. It can be triggered by extreme cold or stress which I'm guessing would be both the cases for you. You're little adventure with the broken toe was cold and stressful."

"I hate the cold, " she muttered dejectedly. "There's nothing I can do to get rid of it?"

He shook his head. "No. Just dress in layers and keep your hands and feet warm so you can avoid frost bite and vascular damage."

"Just another reason to hate that awful place, " she said.

He turned to look at her and regarded her for a moment. "Aside from almost dying and it not being a tropical island, what was so terrible it about being there, " he asked her.

"It's isolated and cold. You're cut off from human existence. You're trapped there with no way out, stuck with the same people, doing the same mundane things over and over again. I went there to do research on those very things and came out being more effected by them than any of the people who were down there to begin with." She pulled her hands out from his jacket and crossed her arms protectively around herself. "I went down there to escape but what I found was a prison where I was forced to face the ugliest things about myself."

"That day when you came into my office, all those things you said about me were true. I was a successful intelligent woman who isolated herself because I was running away. I ran away with my tail between my legs from a relationship that almost consumed me." She braved a glance at him to see how he was reacting to her words. He seemed to be passively listening without judgment. She was sure that would come later. "I was called into consult on the isolation project because of my experience with PTSD on soldiers coming back from the war. They were looking at a correlation of people in high stress situations comparable to being isolated from their families and civilization as they would be in a war situation. His name was Bill. He was the project leader and he was married at the time. I had met his wife a few times at faculty diners and such. She was beautiful and nice and so… pleasant. And he was… I don't even know how to describe him. We were friends, we were colleagues we spoke the same language when it came to work. I was enthralled by his intelligence and his charm. The way we were together, he made me feel like I was powerful, like the things I said made all the difference in the world. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but I was selfish. She was nothing like me. She couldn't satisfy that part of him that I could.

"We were getting closer to the departure date for the team to go and he had gotten a phone call. She was diagnosed with breast cancer. They were going to do a radical mastectomy a week before the team was to leave. He was supposed to go but when I saw how devastated he was, how the guilt tore him apart, I knew that I had lost him. I took his place and went instead. He stayed with her and I left, angry and hurt. I felt rejected and betrayed. But, I had no right. I told myself that going was some sort of penance for what I'd done and that it was the right thing to do."

"Do you still have feelings for him, " House asked her quietly.

She took a deep breath. "I can't say that I'm a hundred percent over it but, I've moved on." She watched him carefully to see how he was processing what she had told him. She could see his wheels turning.

"If she didn't have breast cancer, do you think you two would still be together?"

Surprised by the question, she sat for a minute before answering. It was an interesting concept. She'd never really considered it. "Probably not, " she said honestly. "He would have gone to Antarctica and I would have been here. Things that start with an explosion usually end badly anyway."

He nodded in agreement. "So if it was going to end anyway, why were you so hurt?"

"Because he chose her, not me, " she defended irrationally. "Our relationship was all about my ego and when he didn't fight me when I suggested he stay it meant that he was choosing her. That he was willing to give me up. That hurt."

"No, you offered to go. You made that decision for him because you wanted it to end, because you felt guilty for stealing her husband and for her being sick, which had nothing to do with you. It was a good excuse to end it with him because the guilt of the affair was eating you alive." He looked at her pointedly. "You did the same thing I did with Cameron. Like you said, I decided for her that we wouldn't ever work out because I believed I would inevitably hurt her in the end. That I didn't deserve to be with someone because of who I am, so I pushed her away. You did the same thing; you pushed him away by running 9000 miles away because you didn't believe that he would have chosen you. Sure it was unfortunate that his wife got sick, but if he was that into you he probably would have left her to be with you. If she was my wife and that boring, I would have left her for you too."

Cate stated at him in disbelief. The gravity of his words hit her hard. Not only had he summed her up in a few short sentences, he had identified in a few minutes what had taken her a whole to year to figure out for herself. This coming from a man whose whole life was spent trying to avoid any type of interpersonal meaning between people. He had not only identified her ineptness at keeping a relationship, he had admitted his own shortcomings in that as well. Hanging around her sure had opened his horizons a bit.

"It scares me that you're right. I never wanted it to go that far. I never wanted a choice to be made, " she said.

"Nobody does, " he told her.

"You scare me because you make me feel things even more powerfully than he did, " she confessed afraid that she had said too much. So much for keeping her heart on the sidelines and just playing this cool.

He laughed ruefully, "You scare the shit out of me, too."

She breathed a little sigh of relief. "So what do we do about it?"

"I don't know… You're asking the wrong person, " he said with a smile.

"We keep moving forward I guess."

"Forward's good."

"Forward is good, " she placed her hand in his. "Enough if this heavy shit… We're supposed to be having a Fun Day."

"Agreed. I don't know about you, but all that angst made me hungry, " he said standing and pulling her up too. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. "Wanna buy me lunch?"

"Sure, if you buy dinner?" She said kissing him softly.

He kissed her back deeply in response. "You know I never pay for my own food right?"

"Yeah, well just think of it as the first step in moving forward."


	17. Chapter 17:Vacation Day prt duex

Sessions 17: Vacation day, part deux

House felt an extreme sense of calm as he walked down the village sidewalk hand in hand with Cate. It was getting chilly out as the sun was starting to fall beneath the horizon. Her hands were still cold to the touch and he worried that she would have trouble staying warm. Diagnostically it was really not such a big deal but he knew how much she hated to be cold. Her thin leather jacket would have been enough to protect her form the cooler air but with Raynaud's she needed something heavier to keep from having an attack. For right now, she seemed to be content to just walk closely next to him with her hands wrapped around his free arm.

All in all, after their emotional vomit session, they had had a pretty good day. They had gotten back on the bike and decided to head up to Lamberville to… wait for it… look at antiques! Who was this guy who had taken over his body and what was he doing making him partake in such sappy things like antiquing? God, it was amazing what guys would do for a piece of ass. Ironically, he found it kind of fun once they were in some of the shops and they began to reminisce about the old toys they used to play with as kids…which were now unfortunately antiques. She'd remember glassware and lamps from her grandmother's house, when she was a child. He had recognized a mantle clock that his grandmother used to have. He had also found an old medical bag from the turn of the century that had a stethoscope and some tincture bottles. It was pretty cool and he would have bought it if they weren't on the motorcycle.

Soon, it had gotten close to dinner time so they crossed the river and went into New Hope to a little restaurant she had heard was a nice place from her assistant Judy. Apparently Lucas had taken the girl on a date like he had said he would. He had to remember to check in with Lucas and tell him to back off on Cate. He didn't want any more "private" information about her than she was willing to give. And he certainly didn't want her finding out that he'd continued to have her looked into. Things were in a good place with her. He could screw it up with one false move and he wasn't willing to take that chance.

This was all so new to him. He really liked this woman. He hadn't felt such a strong and immediate connection to anyone since he'd met Wilson at that Medical Conference in New Orleans all those years ago. And he hadn't felt such a pull of desire for any woman since Stacy. That's why she scared the shit out of him. His relationship with Stacy was one of the most powerful he'd experienced with anyone and when it ended it ended badly, in an implosion that left him wounded both physically and emotionally. He hadn't been able to open himself to anyone since. Until now. Sure he'd shared little tidbits and introspections into his life and his soul with people along the way, but they were patients. Transients that came and left without any really significance or mark. He'd never shared those personal stories with anyone that would be around for more than a few hours or maybe just a handful of days.

Since he'd begun talking to Cate a few weeks ago, he'd become more adept at sharing. She made it so easy for him. Either she drew it out of him in a round about way that snuck up on him or she'd flat out challenge him. Never being able to resist a challenge he'd jump in with both feet to find himself in the deep end of his emotions wondering how the hell he'd gotten there. Either way he was talking about himself, openly sharing things with her, that he didn't even share with himself. It was crazy how she made him feel so alive and worthy of her respect. He would even go so far as to say he felt good when he was around her.

Cate shook him from his reverie which was just as well because he was getting way too caught up in the tangled cobwebs inside of his head. She dragged him inside one of the little shops off the side of the street to look around. He watched her blow on her hands to warm them as she wandered around the tiny shop before settling on a jewelry case. Figuring she was busy entertaining herself, he looked around himself. Most of the inventory was hand made artisan crafts, small figures, paintings, and chotchkey stuff to decorate with. He wandered over and perused some of the photographs displayed on the walls. Some of them were pretty good. He liked the sepia toned abstracted views of some of the old buildings in Trenton. Becoming bored, he moved onto the back of the shop where he found a tree full of gloves, scarves and mittens. He fingered through the selection until he found a pair that was a woven pattern of purples and grays. He took them off the rack and brought them over to the counter.

Cate chose that moment to come up along side him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm buying you some mittens, " he replied.

"House, those are hand knit cashmere."

"So, " he responded giving her a look that said "as if that's supposed to mean something to me." She reached out to take the mittens and he held them above her head so she couldn't reach them.

"They're expensive, " she protested and tried to grab them again but he tossed them to the clerk who was standing behind the counter. The young man shifted his weight much too gracefully and caught them with a wink directed at House. House narrowed his eyes at the clerk, but he was nonplussed as he rung up the sale. He flicked his credit card at his impromptu admirer and brought is attention back to Cate.

"You need them, " told her.

"It's no big deal, I'm fine."

"Bag?" the clerk waited.

"No, she'll be wearing them, " House said taking the mittens and separating them before shoving them at Cate.

"House, this really wasn't necessary."

"Put. Them. On."

Reluctantly, Cate did as she was told and then unexpectedly leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you. That was sweet."

He grumbled a "you're welcome" and signed his credit card slip receiving a sly little smile from the clerk and from Cate. Having his fill of this entire scene, he led Cate out onto the sidewalk where they walked back to the lot that held his bike. After paying the attendant and strapping her back into her helmet, House straddled the motorcycle and waited for her to get on. She swung her leg over situating herself tightly against him and placed her mittened hands underneath the hem of his jacket. She hugged herself to the back of him with her hands splayed over his stomach. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "You're really sexy when you're being nice."

He turned the bike on with a roar effectively avoiding a response to her comment. She ticked his stomach lightly with her encased fingers letting him know that he hadn't gotten away with his evasion tactics and he briefly wondered how he was going to make it safely home without crashing because her hands were so incredibly distracting, among other things.

A little over a half an hour later they were back outside his apartment. He pulled the bike easily into his spot and shut it down reluctantly, knowing that their day together was coming to a close. Cate climbed off the bike and waited patiently for him to undo her helmet. She took off the helmet and tried to smooth her hair ineffectively creating more static with her mittened hands. He smiled at her and took the helmet from. She smiled back at him and took a mitten off to smooth her hair with her bare hand. Satisfied that she no longer looked like a science experiment gone awry, she leaned into him and kissed him sweetly.

"I had a wonderful time today, " she told him looking up into his eyes.

"Me too, " he said holding onto her. He rested his forehead against hers unnaturally sad to let her go. "Do you want to stay again? No strings…just be here?"

She sighed against him. "I have to feed Ginger. I haven't been home since yesterday morning."

He nodded in understanding and let his hands slide offer her back. She paused and looked at him. "You could come with me… if you want?"

She didn't have to ask him twice.


	18. Chapter 18: Back to the Grind

Sessions 18: Back to the Grind

After a promise of dinner and a movie later that evening, House returned to his apartment, showered and got dressed before going to pick up bagels for the Scooby Gang. He was starving, a little grumpy and tired. He had met the cat. He didn't like the cat. The cat was a pain in the ass. Three times last night the cat had woken him up. First she was curled up between his feet and when he went to kick her off the bed she batted at his toes with her claws thinking it was some kind of fun game to catch the little piggies. Second time she had wiggled her way in between him and Cate curling up under his arm like she was the one he was supposed to be sleeping with. Claws and fur ensued trying to extricate her. The third time she was laying on his chest under his neck like a dangerous scarf purring like a truck all the while strangling him with her fat furry little body. He was afraid to move her lest she slice open his jugular. And Cate was blissfully unaware of it all, curled up next to him, purring softly like a good little sexy kitten should.

Moving his way up in line, he ordered a mixed dozen with a tub of low-fat cream cheese for the anorexic and the bench-pressing superstar, salmon flavored for him and the Jew and peanut butter for the bumbling adolescent. All though maybe he'd switch to the peanut butter so later on little sexy kitty wouldn't think he'd put on salmon cologne just for her. He looked in his wallet for a twenty and pulled out the receipt for Cate's mittens.

"Holy shit, seventy bucks?" he exclaimed out loud startling the girl behind the counter.

"Sir, it's only $15.95, " she said timidly.

"Not you, " he said by way of apology "Mittens for seventy bucks? That's insane." He hadn't even looked at the charge slip when he signed it yesterday. Plus, dinner with wine and dessert for $190.00. Fuck, that's a lot of money. Damn, it's been a long time since he was out on a real date.

"Were they nice mittens?" the girl asked

"Cashmere?" At least he thinks that's what Cate had said they were made out of.

The girl nodded. "Those are nice mittens."

"Whatever, " he took his change, grabbed the bag and left the shop. Ten minutes later her sauntered as casually as he could into Diagnostics and tossed the brown paper bag onto the conference table earning curious glances from four sets of eyes placed sporadically around the room. "Dad brought bagels."

"Back from your vacation so soon, " Thirteen said grabbing the bag and peering inside.

"We thought for sure you'd set sail for a three hour tour and then maybe the weather started getting rough," Kutner chimed in.

"And your tiny ship was tossed, " Foreman added grabbing a whole grain bagel.

"What… and if not for the courage of my fearless crew, my _Minnow_ would be lost, " he added sarcastically filling in the rest of the Gilligan's Island theme song. "It was just a day." He looked at Taub who had said nothing. "No comments from you? I brought you gefilta fish and matzo for breakfast."

Taub made a face at him and sat down to prepare his own bagel, sesame seed and salmon spread. "Did you have a nice day?"

"Yes, " House answered. "And that's the last thing I'm going to say about it." He sat down at the table and grabbed a plain bagel.

"Touchy, touchy, " Thirteen said. "It's ok if you investigate us so you have fodder for your stupid jokes but, we can't make fun of you when you up and call in a random impromptu vacation day?"

"At least I took a vacation day and didn't go pick up a tranny hooker and do Ex with her all night, " he sniped.

"She wasn't a tranny hooker, you ass, " she spat back.

"Hey, has anyone figured out how to make decent coffee or do I have to call Cameron in from the ER to get a cup for me?" Kutner stood rolling his eyes and begrudgingly poured some into his red mug handing it to him carefully. "At least someone appreciates me." He looked around the table at the four people inspecting him with their curious eyes. "So, do we have a patient with anything interesting killing them today?"

"Nope, " Foreman said.

"So what'd you do yesterday, " Kutner asked spreading his peanut butter.

"I took my bike for a ride, " he answered plainly.

"Where'd you go, " Thirteen inquired.

"Around, " he said.

"Did you go with anyone, " Taub asked nonchalantly.

House fixed him with a pointed stare."Nope."

"Did you meet anyone?" It was Kutner's turn again.

"Nope." House glared at Foreman, who knew better than to taunt him with senseless questions.

Thirteen peered at him through squinted eyes moving in closer and then reached out to touch him. "Do you have cat scratches on your neck?"

He jerked his shoulder swiping her hand to get her away from him. "No!" He snapped and stood up. "God, can't a guy eat his bagel in peace." He placed his bagel in his mouth and grabbed his coffee and high-tailed it into the sanctity of his office closing his blinds with a quick zip and a crack. Good God, he'd taught them to be way too inquisitive.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"I need a favor, " he said later that morning limping into Cuddy's office in a rush.

"Good morning to you too, " she snarked from behind her coffee cup. "Glad to see you're back from your little vacation. Where'd you go?"

"Not you too, " he complained running a hand over his face.

"What? You don't take a single vacation day in over five years and then all of a sudden you text out and I'm not suppose to be curious?"

"I just needed a break, " he said.

"That's what you say when you're trying to avoid clinic duty."

"No, I just disappear when I'm supposed to do clinic duty. I never make it official."

"Hence is why I'm so perplexed, " she explained coming around to the front of her desk. "What gives?"

"Look, I came in here because I need a favor, not to get the Spanish inquisition, " he said handing her the paper he'd jotted some notes on.

"I'm not going to let you drill into someone's head or remove and transplant any organs today… shop's closed."

"Just look at it, " he snapped.

She looked at it curiously and then shook her head. "Are you crazy? There's no way I can get these."

"Come on, there must me someone I saved who has some kind of clout."

"I'm not even sure how I would go about getting these."

"Use your connections or your tits, whatever, just get them for me."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House lounged in the office chair with his feet comfortably crossed at the ankles on top of the desk. He was almost to the king drug dealer's crib in GTA 4 on his PSP. He just had to run down a few pedestrians and beat up a few 'hoes so he could get enough money to buy the rocket launcher he needed to break into the compound.

"What are you doing in my office, it's not my turn to watch you anymore, " Cameron said as she came into the tiny office off of the main ER hall.

"Give me all yo green, bitch or I'll pop a cap in yo ass, " he said not looking up from his game. She came over to the desk and swiped his feet to the floor causing him to slam forward in the chair and drive off the bridge in his game. "Shit, now I have to start back at the hospital and kill more 'hoes to earn back the money I lost."

"So, I heard you took a vacation day yesterday, " she said resting her pert, scrub covered ass on the edge of the desk. . He knew it wasn't such a good idea to hide from the team down in the ER. They'd probably already been down here looking for him and one of their big mouths tripped on Cameron's unrequited love foot. "What's that all about?" she pressed.

"Nothing, " he said switching off his game and trading it in his pocket for his bottle of Vicodin.

"I'm willing to make a bet it has something to do with a certain lady doctor, who happens to work in this hospital on the fourth floor."

He looked up at her smirking face and countered it with and equally salacious grin. "Jealous?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "No. I gave up on cripples with no soul over a year ago."

"And moved onto boring Aussie hair dressers who like to pretend their surgeons." Dry swallowing his two pills he slipped the prescription bottle back into his pocket while she quietly seethed at him for a minute.

"I could say I honestly don't know what she sees in you but, I'd be lying, " Cameron said crossing her arms in front of her. "It must be pretty serious if you're taking a day off of work to be with her."

"Who says that's what I did?"

"I'm guessing. " She shrugged and held his gaze.

"Let's pretend for a minute that _is_ what I did, what would you say to that?"

"I'd say 'good, it's about time you got off your sorry ass and stop wallowing in self-pity."

"Wait, didn't you used to be the nice one?"

"Yeah, and then I worked for you for three years, I've toughened up since then."

"So you're happy for me?"

"Yeah, House, I'm happy for you. If she can bring balance and some semblance of sanity into your life _and_ make you happy then she's tougher woman than I am."

He stared at her for a while taking in how much she had changed over the years. It wasn't just her hair color or how mature her face has become. She had grown into a confident and secure woman. She was no longer the docile, simpering girl who begged for approval. She was her own woman now, independent and strong and he was impressed.

"So don't go doing anything to screw this up, you hear me." She ordered leaning over him with both arms on the chair.

"Me, sabotage a relationship? You must be thinking of Wilson, " he said in mock horror.

She straightened. "No, you're the guy I'm thinking of, " she said forcing back the memory of their disastrous date. "Just promise you won't push the self-destruct button even though it's going to glare at you sometimes. Resist the temptation."

"Noted, " he said looking at his feet on the tile floor. Mentioning Wilson brought his estranged friend to the forefront in his mind. Lucas had said that Cameron had been to see him over the two months that he'd been gone. "You've been to see Wilson?"

She nodded softly. "Yeah."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "How is he?"

"He's doing ok, " she told him.

"Does he…" he broke off unable to ask the question.

"We don't talk about you. We talk about Amber and how he's dealing with it all. We go to grief counseling sessions."

"Right."

"I'm sorry there's nothing more I can tell you, " she said knowing he was dissatisfied. "I know you miss him."

"I'm fine."

"Ok, " she said letting it go. A loud noise came from the hallway as a patient crashed outside the door. She shot up from her desk and looked at him.

"Go, do your job, " he said pointing at the door. Without a second glance she was out in the hallway working fervently to resuscitate the patient. He pushed the door shut with his cane and turned his PSP back on. He had some hoes to kill.


	19. Chapter 19:The Tickets

Sessions 19: The Tickets

Cuddy saw him immediately as he set foot into the lobby of the hospital at 10:30 in the morning. House grimaced as she click clacked her way hurriedly over to him no doubt to reprimand him for coming in an hour later than his usual tardy arrival time of 9:30-ish give or give a half an hour.

He had had another long night of sleeping tangled with his furry girlfriend. Sexy kitty had adopted him as her soul mate and he couldn't seem to break it to her that the only reason he was sleeping there was because he wanted to snuggle up to the beautiful woman without fur. He and Cate had spent every nght together since their day off a week ago. With only a little bit of persuasion, he had agreed to spend a few nights at her place switching between his place and hers because she didn't want Ginger, aka Sexy Kitty, to be left alone. He liked his place much better, however. He had his TiVo and the big screen TV plus his piano and his bourbon, although had hadn't seemed to need to drink it lately in order to fall asleep. Aside from his romps with the furry love-sick cat, he'd slept like a baby the past few nights.

"How much do you love me, " Cuddy said coming up to him flashing a Crest Strip whitened smile.

"I don't. I hate you. How many times do I have to tell you before you get the picture, " he said pushing his way past her to tap the elevator button with the end of his cane.

"Well you're gonna love me, " she said holding a manila envelope in front of his face.

"What is this, " he said grumpily taking the paper from her hands.

"It's what you asked me for, " she told him triumphantly as if she had a reason to be so smug.

He wasn't sure what she was talking about. He was a little bit foggy since it was after all still early morning for him.

"Open it, " she demanded with glee.

He narrowed his eyes at her and slipped the metal clasp out of the whole, sticking his hand inside the envelope. His hand wrapped around two paper rectangles. _No way_… He looked at her in shock. "You didn't?"

"I did."

He pulled them out and read them. "Oh my God, I could kiss you, " he said grabbing her excitedly with both hands. He felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

She placed a hand up covering his mouth to stop him. "A simple thank you will suffice."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, " he said planting a big kiss on her anyway and then shoving her aside like a sack of potatoes as the elevator doors opened.

"You owe me like 16 hours of clinic duty for what I had to do to get those, " she called to him as the doors slid closed. He didn't care. What he had in his hand was like pure gold and the world's biggest entry tickets into the land of "Greg House was a God-ville".

He swung into Diagnostics and dropped his backpack and coat onto an empty chair.

"Differential Diagnosis people, " he said coming up to the white board grabbing his favorite marker. He wrote swiftly across the board: _2 small rectangles, embossed cardstock, millions covet them, worth over $1600, once in a lifetime chance = priceless._

"What are they? Go…" he prompted the room of curious onlookers.

Kutner leaned back in his chair and laughed. "I get it; it's like the Master Card commercial."

"Way to catch up, " he sniped and then directed his attention to Foreman. "You have got to know what these are."

Foreman shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Thirteen threw her hands up in the air. "This is a waste of time. It's clearly not a patient."

Taub looked up form his crossword puzzle. "He's obviously excited about it, humor him."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know, tickets?"

"Bingo, but to what?" House said excitedly.

"The Who concert is Sunday night in Philadelphia, " Kunter said aloud. "You like the Who right?"

"There's a Who concert Sunday night, " House repeated momentarily distracted. _Oh, thank God they didn't break up!_ "Good guess but no…try again."

"Dude, their playing right across the street from the World Series that night and those tickets are going for $800 a pop, " Kutner announced.

Foreman froze, his eyes wide."That's it. You got World Series tickets?"

"Get the Hell out of here, " Taub said now interested in the conversation.

"I did, " House gloated.

"No way, " Kutner whistled appreciatively.

"How the hell did you pull that off?" Foreman asked.

"Cuddy - apparently her tits _are_ worth something, " House said earning a disgusted snort from Thirteen.

"Who are you taking with you, " Taub asked his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"None of you poor bastards, " he announced with merriment.

Kutner held his hands up and dropped his jaw astonished. Foreman shook his head resignedly. Taub snorted a laugh and Thirteen clucked her tongue at him. "You come waltzing in her making us guess that you have in your hand the hardest tickets to get and then gloat about not taking any of us, you suck."

House shrugged indifferently at her. "Sorry, but they're for another more well endowed woman who happens to dig men – more specifically, me."

"Cameron's chest isn't bigger that Thirteen's, " Kutner declared.

Foreman tossed a crumpled piece of paper at Kutner. "He's not talking about Cameron, idiot."

"Who then?" Thirteen inquired.

House looked to Taub to see if he would spill the beans, but Taub shook his head. "This is his game you've got to play along."

"See, he knows but he's not telling," House pointed his marker at Taub outing him.

Foreman looked at Taub shocked. "You know who he's talking about?"

Taub shrugged indifferently. "Yeah, we bonded."

"We are so like BFFLs now, " House egged Foreman on.

"I know who you're talking about too, and she's not gonna go with you," the neurologist argued. "She things you're a tool."

"Wrong, I _know_ she's gonna to go with me, " House assured him.

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Who the hell are we talking about, " Thirteen slapped her hands on the table in frustration.

"Cate…" Foreman said.

"Cate…" Taub said.

"South Pole Doc? " Kutner exclaimed, "Since when?"

"Almost three weeks now, " Taub said.

"Three weeks? And you kept that one in your pants for that long?" Foreman griped.

He ran his hand against his hair at the back of his head. "Mmmm, so to speak…" House said not really comfortable how close to the truth Foreman was with that comment.

Thirteen shook her head. "Thank God the woman's a psychiatrist."

"Why?" Kutner asked naively.

"Because she won't have to go very far when he fucks with her mind so bad she can't think straight."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, " House grumbled at her.

"She's got to be the reason why he took the day off last week, " Kutner announced from the end of the table.

Foreman shook his head looking like the world had turned upside down. Taub sat there smiling like he ate the canary and Thirteen looked disgustedly confused.

"Go you, " Kutner added.

"Thanks, " he said pleased that somebody wasn't grossed out by the whole idea that he could be in a relationship.

"Three weeks?" Foreman repeated incredulously. "And there was no blackmail involved or like some kind of twisted subterfuge?"

"Nope."

"And you're actually in a relationship?"

"Yeah, I guess. A real relationship… like adults." There was a collective gasp and he rolled his eyes.

"You using the word adult in the same sentence to describe yourself is like blasphemy, " Thirteen told him. "God will smite you for such things."

"God's gonna smite you for munching the carpet, unless of course, you move to Connecticut."

"See what I mean, " she said making her point.

"I think it's a good thing, " Taub offered. "It means the Tin Man might actually have a heart."

"BFFLs all the way, " he held his fist out for solidarity. Taub tapped knuckles back.

"I've known you a long time, " Foreman said shaking a wary finger. "I'll believe it when I see it."

As if Heaven had sent her to prove Foreman wrong, Cate showed up at the clear door to the Diagnostic Conference room. She knocked on the glass looking like she didn't want to interrupt an official differential session. All eyes in the room turned to look at her.

"Believe that, " House stated triumphantly. "Everybody out."

In a scurry of feet and lab coats, everyone shuffled out the room but not before Foreman eyed him speculatively as if he had somehow planned to have her show up at that exact moment in time. House was good, but not that good. "And don't tell her, " he called to them as the left the room.

"Tell me what?" she asked coming into the room. She was wearing one of her tight tweed skirts with a pair of her stripper pumps making her legs look deliciously long and tasty. Her deep blue sweater wrapped delicately around her curves in all the right places. He had to drag his eyes to her face when she asked him again, "Tell me what?"

"About us, " he said pulling her into him with one arm. He kissed her soundly on the lips half for himself and half to make a show out of it to shock and appall the ducklings. "I told them about us."

"You did?" she was taken aback and then looked over her shoulder smiling self-consciously when she realized she was being watched. "That's not what I expected." House waved them off with an irritated wave of his hand.

"I'm a man of many surprises, "he said releasing her and taking her to the whiteboard. "Here, this is what we were really talking about."

"What is it?" she asked.

"You have to guess, " he told her mysteriously.

"Ok," she said bringing her full attention to the board. "_2 rectangles, embossed card sock_; it's an invitation of some sort."

"Close, " he hinted.

"_Millions covet it, worth over $1600, once in a lifetime chance = pricel…."_ She mulled it over in her mind for a bit and then covered her face with her hands. "Oh my God!" She started to shake. "Ohmigod,ohmigod, ohmigod…" Her knees buckled under her and she started to sway.

"Whoa…" He reached out to catch her from falling into the table but he lost his own balance and hit the edge of the table with his thigh instead. "Ahh Fuck!" A white hot flash of pain tore through his leg and he nearly dropped her as his hands went numb and his stomach churned his breakfast over in response. He grunted and somehow managed to sit on the edge of the table biting his tongue against the wave of nausea overcoming him. Her ohmigods had turned from shock to guilt in an instant as she regained her own footing and was now trying to ascertain how he was doing.

"Greg, I am so sorry, " she said running her hands over him.

He couldn't speak. He couldn't breath. He supposed that was a good thing because he would have yelled a stream of violent obscenities at her for sending him crashing into the table. He could hear Cameron's voice echo sternly in his head… _Don't push the self-destruct button_…_resist the temptation… _ He let out a roar releasing some of the throbbing pain.

A moment or two, maybe more, passed agonizingly slow. When he could open his eyes and finally see the world around him, he looked at her and his heart broke. There were tears in her eyes and a sick feeling of remorse came over him more powerful than the pain that he'd just experienced. He ran his hands over his face jogging his memory trying to recall if he'd verbally attacked her. He couldn't remember.

"Greg…Are you ok?" Her hands were on his face, trembling in fear. He breathed slowly. Carefully he took her hands from his face and brought them together in front of him.

"I'm ok."

"I'm so sorry, " she said, biting on her lower lip to keep it from trembling, fresh tears shining in her eyes.

"Did I say anything horrible to you?" She shook her head. "No."

"Did I yell at you?" She shook her head "No" again. He breathed in a huge sigh of relief and brought her too him in a tight hug.

"I'm so, so sorry," she said again.

"No, it's not your fault. It was an accident." He said finally. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

She wiped at her eyes sniffling. "I started to cry because of the tickets, but then, I hurt you…your leg…" she trailed off with a sob taking her over.

"No, no, no, don't cry, " he said taking her back into his arms and running his hands over her back soothing her. "I'm ok." He was desperately trying to deal with the rage inside his leg and the horror of trying not to blame her. He felt terrible for making her cry.

Cate's sobs finally abated and she pulled back from him to wipe the mascara from her checks. "Damn it, I'm such a baby, " she said angrily.

"Don't worry about it, " he said wiping at her tears with his thumb. "I'm an ass, I should've had you sit down."

"Greg, this is not your fault, " she said taking the empty chair next to him resting her hands on his good leg. Confident that he wasn't about to vomit his entire stomach contents anymore, he took out his Vicodin bottle and tried to open the lid. His hands were still shaking so badly he couldn't get a grip on it. "Could you?"

Taking the bottle from him, she easily opened the lid and shook out three of them. He looked at her oddly for a second and then took the offered amount swallowing them without question. Three would definitely knock out the throbbing remaining in his leg and him as well.

He shook hid head and touched her shoulder. "So, are you free on Monday night?" he asked breaking the tension. "You see, I've got these tickets…"

She took a calming breath and smiled at him curling a piece of her hair absently around her finger. "Well, I was going to paint my toenails, but I think I could adjust my schedule."

"You better, I owe my kidney in clinic hours to Cuddy for these tickets, " he told her.

She stood up and slid her hands delicately along his shoulders and around the back of his head. "I'll see what I can do to work some of it off for you."

"Stop talking dirty, " he said in a low tone, "we're in my office, you know."

"And you should go lay down, " she suggested gently. "Those three Vicodin are going to hit you soon and I won't be able to pick you up to drag you to your chair. And then I'd have to get Foreman in here and that would be just a whole mess of explaining to do."

"Grab me my cane, " he said extending his hand out to wait for it. She slid it into his hand and then braced herself to support his weight as he came off the table. His first step sent another wave of pain rolling through his thigh in protest but it wasn't nearly as strong as before. Gathering his footing he made his way into his office and to the yellow chair in the corner with her assistance. She helped him to sit comfortably propping his feet on the ottoman. "Thank you."

She knelt down beside him tucking the hem of the skirt elegantly under her bottom as she did so. "Thank you for the most exciting present anyone has ever gotten me."

"I did it for me, " he said, his eyes becoming heavy.

"I know. It's a definite panty peeler." She smiled lightly.

"Since when did you start calling me Greg?" he asked dopily as sleep started to take over.

She kissed him lightly on the lips. He didn't even hear the last thing she said to him.


	20. Chapter 20: Big Brother

Sessions 20: Big Brother

Cate finished her mixed green salad and was about to clear her tray and return to her office when Foreman slid into the chair opposite her at her table.

"Hi, " she greeted him with an air of surprise.

"Hi, " he said seriously, looking like there was something on his mind.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

"I'm here to put my foot in business I have no right to be in, " he told her. It was clear he was trying even as he spoke the words to convince himself that this conversation was a good idea.

"This is about House, right?"

"Yes. Specifically, you and House, " he said with a little wince as the words came out of his mouth.

Nonplussed, she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. An amused smile stole over her mouth. "Let me guess, you're here to warn me to be careful with him."

He looked relieved. "Yeah."

"You're worried someone's going to get hurt, " she speculated.

"Yeah."

"You're afraid that a relationship with him will come to nothing but disaster and pain."

"Exactly."

"Are you worried more for me or the team when the fallout hits?"

He reeled back, his eyes wide with guilt and surprise. He was amazed that she'd seen through him so quickly. His expression changed to one of mutual respect. "You're good."

"That's why I get paid the big bucks."

He shrugged and smiled a tad sheepishly. "A little bit of both I guess."

"That's honest."

He looked at her seriously. "He's not a nice guy."

"You'd be surprised."

"He's an ass, but you must already know that."

She nodded.

"He's never loyal."

"You have to wade through all of the bullshit to find it, but it's there."

He paused, considering. "You might be good for him and that he'll have trouble with the most."

Cate smiled at him. "You respect him."

He shook his head. "I respect him as a doctor and diagnostician. I can't stand him as a person."

She leveled her gaze at him. "He keeps it interesting and that you have trouble with the most."

He laughed and sat back in his chair. He contemplated her for a moment and tilted his head to the side. "What does a beautiful, intelligent woman like you see in a tired, busted up curmudgeon like him?"

"I see a brilliant man who takes chances other people won't and isn't afraid to tell the world like it is. He may be a version of all those things you said but you can't deny that he's not boring."

"No, boring he isn't." His face softened. "Look Cate, I don't want to pry into your business. I hardly know you, but I know House. He's difficult on his good days. He's nearly impossible on the bad ones. In all honesty, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I believe you, " she said to him. She believed in his sincerity. "Could you accept the possibility that there is a part of him that he doesn't show to the world, that remains protected from everyone, even those closest to him?"

"Yeah, I guess, " he said reluctantly.

"Then you have to accept that there is a part of him that is capable of having feelings for another person."

He circled his head between 'yes' and 'no' finally settling on the affirmative. "I can kind of, sort of buy it."

"If you look real hard, I'm sure you can see it."

"Did he get those tickets for you?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, he did." A warmth stirred through her at the thought that he did something that special for her.

"Why?" he asked her curiously.

"Because I'm a huge Phillies fan and he knew it would make me happy."

"That's interesting."

"Does it prove my theory?"

"Almost. If it were the opera then I'd say it proves it a hundred percent. The World Series could still have selfish motives."

Cate laughed and made a face. "If it were the opera I'd be wondering 'what the hell' right there with you."

"Hey, quit mackin' on my girlfriend, " House bellowed drawing a few stares as he limped over to them.

Cate eyed him incredulously. "What are you, a rhinoceros? You had three Vicodin and hour and a half ago."

He scoffed. "Three Vicodin's just a good long nap." Pulled another chair over and sat down. "What did you think you could come down here while I was sleeping and try to warn her off of me, telling her how I'm evil incarnate and that nothing good can come from the union of our souls?"

Foreman squinted his eyes at him. "Yeah, something like that."

"We're just having a conversation, " Cate said trying to smooth over the mounting tension.

House drew his attention to her tray and inspected the remains of her salad with a disgusted sneer. "Salad? I told you already we eat pastrami on rye for lunch."

"What? I had too much pizza last night. I'm taking it light today, " she said touching her hand to her bloated stomach. She could still feel last night's dinner taking its sweet old time with the digestion.

"You look great, " he grumbled picking at a piece of lettuce before dropping it into his mouth.

Foreman closed his eyes against the whole interpersonal exchange. "I'm going."

"Yes you are… we have a patient, 23 year female with skin necrosis on her legs" House announced rising to his feet. "Dinner tonight, I'll cook?"

"Ok, but no Chinese, pizza, Italian or KFC, " she expressed tick each one off on her fingers.

He made a face and she laughed. "What options does that leave? There are only so many places I can dial…"

"I don't know, you're a creative guy, figure it out, " she told him.

"My place, " he asked meriting a grimace and an eye roll from Foreman. "Oh will you relax, it's not nearly half as disgusting as catching your parents having sex."

Cate chuckled again at Foreman's discomfort and House's complete insensitivity toward it. "Good luck with your necrosis, " she said as the two men walked out of the cafeteria bickering like a pair of old men.


	21. Chapter 21:Game 5

Sessions 21: Game 5

_Hey guys… sorry for the little delay. I had a little block when I started this chapter. I knew that I wanted him to do this grand gesture for her but then I was stuck with what to do once they got there. Baseball isn't that interesting when you're writing a romance with a grumpy grump whose a little out of his comfort zone. So, I apologize ahead of time for those who could give a rat's ass about the baseball… Enjoy!_

Cate felt like she was five again waiting in her room for her parents to wake up on Christmas morning so she could go downstairs and see all of the good things Santa brought for her. Her palms were sweaty and her stomach tightened in anticipation and she couldn't stop smiling like an idiot. She was just plain excited.

She made it a point to wear her favorite Phillies hoodie sweatshirt under her #26 Chase Utley jersey. She was an Utley girl through and through. Jeter from the Yankees may have had that patented shortstop jump, but Utley's second base heroics made him her go-to dream-guy. Plus it didn't hurt that he was cute, cute, cute. She had the gloves House bought her, a scarf, a hat, some thermal socks under her Timberland boots and a rain coat, just in case. The forecast was calling for rain so she did her little 'go away rain' dance before driving over to the hospital to pick up House. She made sure she had his rain gear and a scarf and some gloves for him as well. It took her almost a half an hour to locate them in his apartment because he was certainly no help but nevertheless, she had finally found them in the back of his bedroom closet and now he was prepared for any inclement weather too.

She showed up in Diagnostics looking like a pack mule but she didn't care. It was getting close to the time they needed to get on the road. Citizen's Bank Park was an hour away and there would no doubt be rush hour traffic on top of game traffic into the stadium. She didn't want to be one second late for the first pitch.

"Are we camping overnight there?" House asked sarcastically as she entered his office carrying his foul weather supplies.

"No, just wanted to cover all my bases, so to speak, " she said with an excited giggle. He rolled his eyes at her as he came around his desk to relieve her of her load. He examined his stuff with a curious glance.

"I own this stuff?"

"Yeah, deep in the bowels of your bedroom closet, " she said.

He raised his eyebrows at her in uncertain caginess, "You were in my closet?"

She put a hand on her hip and made a reproachful frown. "Don't worry your porn collection is safe and unharmed. Miss July says, 'Hi'."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You mock what you don't understand. Nothing can stand in the way of our love. Not even you."

She snorted a laugh. "My boobs are the same size as hers, except mine are real."

"You're such a tease, " he told her smacking her on her butt with his gloves. "Utley?! Really?" he questioned reading the back of her jersey as she unsuccessfully tried to dodge him.

"All 6'1" 200 lbs of him, " she taunted.

"Puh-leez , he's a pretty boy, " he said derisively. "What is it with chicks I know and guys named Chase?"

"Ah, you mock what you don't understand, " she retorted with a saucy glance.

"I walk with a big stick too _and_ save lives all day. They should put my name on the back of a t-shirt and pay me $20,000,000 a year."

Cate moved over to him and wound her hands around his neck. "I'd wear your jersey if they had one."

"You'd be the only one, " Foreman quipped entering the office.

Kutner followed him shielding his eyes. "My eyes, they burn."

House pushed Cate away from him and swiped the file from Kutner's hand giving the younger doctor a menacing glare. Kutner hung his head in reverent obedience on cue. "I take it the patient's stable now?"

Foreman nodded. "Yes, the treatment is working. We've gone through three misdiagnosis…"

"And you've had an epiphany that led us to the real problem, " Kutner added.

"So she's most likely cured and you can go and enjoy your game without a further thought, " Foreman concluded.

"Good, " House said nodding his head and looking around the room. He snatched her keys off the desk and wiggled them at her. "I'm driving."

"You are not driving my Land Rover, " Cate retorted grabbing at the keys which he promptly held over her head.

"Tsk, tsk, you try but you're never tall enough, " he mocked staring down at her. "Shorty."

"House…" she warned but with no success. His arm was too long.

"Let's go, you're protesting is only going to make us late, " he said moving swiftly to the office door swiping his coat off of the chair as he went by.

Cate sighed defeated receiving a sympathetic grin from Kutner and an 'I-told-you-so' look from Foreman. She grabbed her own jacket, hat, mittens and scarf, saying 'goodbye' and followed him out to the elevator. She hated when he drover her truck. He moved everything around, the seat back, the mirrors, the steering wheel and he changed radio stations every two minutes. He sped like demon with his hair on fire. And that was just on the smaller side streets. This was going to be the freeway. Good lord!

A little over two hours, a few heart palpitations and a quick dinner later, they were in the stadium moving through the crowds to their seats. They bought some beers at the concession stand for the cost of a down payment on a house and found their section. Cuddy had managed to get them incredible tickets ten rows behind the Rays dugout. It was a bit of a walk down to the infield seating but the stairs were on a very shallow angle and House had no difficulty making it downstairs. Cate looked around at the enormous stadium taking in the electricity of the charged atmosphere as the seas began to fill up with excited fans. First pitch wasn't until 8pm, about a half an hour away but the place was already rocking.

"I think the last time I was here, I sat way up there, " Cate said pointing to the third tier on the first baseline.

"Cheap date?" he asked settling himself in his seat.

"My dad's a retired cop, everything's a cheap date with him, " she said.

He rolled his head back and groaned. "You're a cop's daughter. Great."

Cate laughed. "Yeah. He's not going to like you."

"Excellent. Any older brother cops I should know about?"

"No, just me, " she said.

"Oh, perfect. His _only_ daughter, it keeps getting better and better."

"It's not that bad, " she grinned. "He begrudgingly accepts that I'm a grown woman who can take care of herself."

"Right, and how many times did he call you before we got here?"

"Two, " Cate said sheepishly.

"Three," he amended. "You thought I didn't catch the one when I was coming back from the bathroom at the restaurant?"

"Ok, three. But he's just really excited that I'm here at this game. They might take it all tonight and he's been waiting for that for twenty eight years."

"You never talk about your mom, " House said giving her an inquisitive look.

"She's been dead for five years now, " Cate told him.

He nodded quietly. "From what?"

"Breast cancer, it metastasized to her brain because they didn't catch it in time. She was never one to trust doctors." Cate looked down at her mittened hands. "It all happened very fast. My dad was devastated."

"You get checked?" he asked, the doctor who can never put away the doctoring.

She leveled her stare at him placatingly. "Yes, mammograms once a year. Breast exams once a month."

He gave her a sidelong glance."You know, I'm very skilled at manual breast exams."

"I know, you can do them in your sleep, " she said giving him a coquettish grin. She had woken up this very morning with his warm hand under her shirt cupped loosely around her breast.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I can't be held responsible for things that occur when I'm asleep."

"I'm not complaining, " she said. She lowered her voice and leaned closer to him as there were people all around them now. "It just makes it harder to stick to my resolution of no sex just yet."

"Heavy petting doesn't technically count as sex."

"No. I suppose not, " she said and then turned her face to look at him. Her nose was close enough to touch his cheek but she could still look into his clear blue eyes. The essence of his skin filled her nostrils with his supremely male scent. "Does it bother you that were still _just sleeping_ together and nothing more?"

He lifted her chin with his finger to look deeply into her eyes. "If it bothered me, we wouldn't be doing anything at all."

A small tremor tightened in her stomach at the intensity in his gaze. She smiled slowly and rested her head on his shoulder. If a year ago someone had told her that she'd be in a fledgling relationship with a man as complex and diverse as Greg House, she would have told them they were delusional and needed clonazepan. Today, she could still hardly believe it herself because the reality of it was more powerful and thrilling than she could have ever imagined.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House glanced at the beautiful woman to his right and wondered how he'd actually gotten to this point with her. He had just told a seductively alluring woman that he was perfectly ok with the fact that they were not having sex. He'd never been ok with not having sex. He'd even gone so far as to pay for it when the desire stuck and here he was denying himself so he could in all reality build a relationship with her. That very thought was new to him. Greg House didn't do relationships. Yet, he had never felt such patience or comfort with someone. He had never felt the desire to know everything about someone's likes and dislikes. He had never felt so accepted by anyone. She liked him despite all of his faults, his sarcasm, ill-temper, snide comments and grumpy disposition. She wasn't intimidated by him or annoyed by his derision; instead she seemed amused by it. She accepted it as part of him and never expected or required him to change. And that made him feel something akin to being happy. It had been a long time since he could actually say he was happy, so long that he wasn't sure what that even was anymore. This right here, right now was the closest thing to those distant echoes that he could recall.

The ball park was full now and the hum of the crowd silenced as they rose for the National Anthem. He had to admit that he was pretty excited to be here. He'd never totally dedicated himself to one team since his childhood had taken him all around the world. He had no real loyalty to any one place so he never had any loyalty to any one team. Before his infarction he liked sports, liked to play and to watch. He enjoyed baseball, but it wasn't as exciting a game as lacrosse. But the atmosphere here was electric. To actually be at the World Series was a pretty exhilarating feeling. The fact that Cate was practically vibrating with her excitement made it all the more thrilling. She sang quietly under her breath to the National Anthem and that made him smile. He looked down at her and he saw her eyes brim with unshed tears.

"Are you crying?"

"No." She pulled her eyelids open wide with her eyebrows and blinked rapidly a few times in a futile attempt to cover up her sentimentality.

"There's no crying in baseball," he teased getting down in her face like Tom Hanks in 'A League of Their Own'.

She smacked his shoulder. "Shut up." Ignoring him, she turned her attention to cheering at the top of her lungs as the players entered the field. They took their seats and settled in for the duration. The top of the first went down easy one, two , three but it started to rain and there was a short delay before the Phillies were up. Rollins flew out and Werth walked before Utley came up. House was amazed at her reaction when her boy was hit by a pitch and walked to first base. The woman was an animal. She and some of the other fans stood and shouted obscenities at the pitcher questioning the validity of his eyesight and parentage. She was like a mother tigress protecting her young. The cool, calm, collected woman he knew was gone. It was fun to watch.

When Utley finally scored a run on Victorino's base hit, her elation carried over to the other fans around them with high-fives and fist bumps. Fat Guy with an oncoming heart condition and his pre-diabetic wife were in the row in front of them and engaged Cate in a benign conversation. They generally seemed to ignore his presence after he had made a comment about Evan Longoria's ass being much thinner than Eva Longoria's despite what _The National Inquire_ said. The three lost Jonas brothers and their dad were to their right. They seemed to be afraid to even look in his direction because when the oldest one who was all of twenty-two talked to Cate about the last play, House glared at him with a look that said he'd pull his spleen through his nostril if he even tried to engage her in conversation again. The guys behind them were fine except for the dumb blonde that continued to text throughout the entire game and insisted that she give her idiot friend the play by play of her dispute over distribution totals with the 'fat lesbian whore' she worked for. And through it all his companion was blissfully unaware of the idiocy around them and was focused solely on the game.

Utley popped out in the second inning and made a great defensive third out play in the third. Carlos Pena scored a run for Tampa and Cate erupted when Utley picked off Evan Longoria at second base in a double play to end the fourth keeping them at one run. The wind was picking up with force and the temperature was dropping quickly. The players on the field were blowing heat into their hands and he knew that Cate must have been feeling the effects of the cold despite her insistence that she was fine. His own leg was starting to talk loudly to him as he adjusted his position and took two Vicodin to calm the growing pain. Two seconds later it started to rain; and rain steadily. Cate looked at him a little pout forming on her lips.

"It's going to stop right?" she asked as if he had all the answers to the universe. He shielded his eyes and looked up to the sky. He could see the rain coming down in sheets by the bright stadium lights. There was no way this was going to stop anytime soon.

"Look, Hammels is up, " he said pointing to the batters box diverting her attention away from the weather and back to the game. It was the bottom of the fourth, one out. "They're gonna keep playing, " he said by way of reassuring her. He couldn't believe they were still playing. If this were any other game, it would have been in delay. If this were any other game, he would have left a while ago.

"Oh shit…" she exclaimed. Hammels had just caught his finger in a foul tip on his pitching hand trying to bunt. She shook her own hands trying to warm them out of reflexive sympathy and he took them to put in his jacket. Hammels advanced to first on a force out and then made it to second and then third with both Rollins and Werth's subsequent walks. Utley grounded out for the third out of the inning. No one scored.

"Your boy isn't hitting so good tonight, " he teased.

"No but he is on fire with the defense, " she defended and then looked around at the pouring rain. "It's amazing they can do anything in this rain." There was a touch of worry to her voice.

"They'll play as long as they can. It's the World Series. They've never suspended." He shifted uncomfortably trying to hide his wince and the awkwardness of having her hands in his jacket. The Vicodin was not doing much to quell the ache from the cold dampness.

"Greg, maybe we should go, " she said. He liked it when she used his first name although she seemed to only use it when she was being sympathetic or really serious about something.

"No. I'm fine, " he said a bit too harshly. She leveled her eyes at him and knew he was lying. He gave her a softer smile. "Really, I'll survive."

Baldelli of Tampa Bay had just made it to first base on an error by Rollins because he couldn't hold onto the ball with it slippery wet. Utley exhibited his magic again and made a double play to Ryan Howard taking out Baldelli and Bartlett. Cate cheered removing her hands to funnel her voice out to Utley as if he could really hear her undying support. The stadium racked with energy despite the cold and the rain. The fans were in it to the bitter end. And he'd see to it that she got to stay and see her team win. He wasn't going to let his leg dictate how this evening was going to play itself out.

Unfortunately, the rain had other designs for the evening. They played through the fifth inning, endured a pitching change, Kazmir was out of the game and now they were in the top of the sixth. They were soaked through despite her earlier efforts to keep them dry. His leg was so numb he wasn't sure how he'd be able to make it up the stairs when they were done. Hammels was pitching like it wasn't raining at all until BJ Upton stole second, hydroplaning in the infield mud and then scored on a single base hit from Pena to tie the game.

"Holly shit you've got to be kidding me!" She was on the edge of her seat practically jumping out of her soaking wet skin. She calmed down enough to watch Longoria fly out to Victorino. She catapulted to her feet and screamed, "That's right pretty boy. You're going down!" He laughed at how ridiculous she looked. Her hair was plastered around her face and her grey hood dripped more water into her eyes than it protected them from it. She looked positively adorable.

Two minutes later, the grounds crew rolled out the tarp to cover the infield. Twenty minutes later, an announcement came that the game was suspended. For the first time in history the World Series would be suspended indefinitely until the rain stopped. That meant that they were going home.

Cate sat in her seat as the stadium began to empty and turned her face to him. Her eyes were bright, her nose was red from the cold and she wore a smile that reached from ear to ear. If he wasn't sitting right next to her soaked and chilled to the bone he would have thought she was sitting on the beach in Jamaica. "Can you believe this?"

He shook his head. "No." He took her hands in his and took them out of the damp mittens. Her skin was white and pruned. "How are you doing?"

She beamed. "I can't feel my fingers or my toes and I'm having the time of my life!"

He laughed. "You're a crazy person."

"Hey, isn't that supposed to be my line?" she said leaning in to rub her cold nose on him.

He kissed her nose and then her forehead. "I've always said that crazy was a relative term anyway."

"We should probably start heading up, " she said looking at the emptying stairs.

He looked up the slick steps and made a face. "It's gonna take me a year and a day to make it to the car."

"I'm in no hurry. Besides, it'll give everyone else time to get out of the parking garage. "

He nodded his head. Normally he would have taken her optimism for pity but he knew that she'd be the last one to do that. He felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He'd been fighting it for the better part of an hour since she had started to look like an adorable little drowned rat. The effect seemed to have an ironically arousing hold over him. He cupped his hand at the back of her head underneath her hood and brought his lips to hers. Her lips were chilled but her tongue was warm as he caressed it with his own. She moaned softly in the back of her throat and leaned into him inviting him deeper into her inner heat. She kissed him back with a fever than left him breathless.

When she broke away from him her lips were red and glossy from his kisses and he thanked the powers that be that they had a two hour car ride home to calm his growing desire for her.

She touched her cold fingers to his lips and smiled. "Than you, Greg. For all of this. It means more to me than you can ever know." And that meant more to him than she could ever know.


	22. Chapter 22: Dormant Revelations

Sessions Chapter 22: Dormant Revelations

Hi guys…. I have been missing these guys! Things have been busy and haven't had a lot of time to write. Once again, love to all of you who are following my story. I hope it makes you as happy as it's making me. This bit is mostly in House's head. It's the morning after the game which like I said was a necessary evil for those of you who don't get baseball. The ironic thing for me was that I had planned all of this out right before the Phillies made it to the World Series, so it was like fate was giving me the golden goose. And dude, not even a Phillies fan… I'm Jeter girl and a Yankees fan! Though I have distinct soft spot for underdog teams and starting a little crush on Chase Utley myself. Enjoy!

House woke to the soft, slow twirling of Cate's fingers on the worn fabric of his t-shirt. His heart beat steadily underneath her smooth rhythm in soft syncopation to the steady pulse of rain falling against the window panes of his cloud darkened room. He kept his eyelids closed and breathed in the silence enjoying the warmth of her leg draped over his and the scent of her hair against his neck. He loved the scent of her hair and the feel of her silky skin against his. It was comforting to wake up with her in his arms, to know that she was close by his side. In such a short time, he had gotten way too used to sleeping next to her. He savored the feeling of curling up to her warm soft body at night and anticipated seeing her smile as it reached her eyes when she said 'good morning'. He was beginning to need her and that thought frightened him. He didn't need anybody. Need implied vulnerability. Vulnerability led to hurt. He had enough hurt to last twelve lifetimes.

The last time he was in a relationship that moved this fast he was left five years later with a broken heart and a damaged leg. He had opened himself up to trust in another human being and he had lost everything because of it. And now eight years after the devastation, he had not recovered. Eight years of living like a broken shell of the man he used to be. Eight years of living the lie that he needed no one and that connections to people didn't matter. He had lost so much in those eight years. He lost his mobility, his humanity and his confidence to believe in people.

Everybody lies; they lie to protect themselves and the ones they love. He had lied plenty over his lifetime, but he did so to protect himself. But, he had never lied more to himself than he had since his infarction. He lied to Stacey when he pushed her away because he resented the decision she had made without his consent. He lied to Cameron when he told her he didn't feel anything for her. He lied to Stacey again when she'd come back and she'd been willing to leave Mark for him. He was lying to himself when he said that he'd be better off alone. He'd been fooling himself to think that he didn't need anyone.

He thought of the woman lying in his arms drawing circles on his chest and wondered why she was different. Why did he trust her? Why did he feel this overwhelming sense to want to spend every minute with her? Why did he need her like the air he breathed? Why couldn't he lie to her? Why couldn't he lie to himself about her? He knew the answer. It lurked in the back corners of his mind, mocking him and the wall he had built around his heart. He was terrified to admit it to himself by bringing it to the light of day and completely unprepared to admit it to her.

"Are you awake?" she asked quietly.

"No, " he responded keeping his eyes closed. His heart was beating fast. She had to have heard it.

"It's raining out, " she said with a sigh.

"Good weather for sleeping, " he replied, mentally thanking her for not bringing up why is heart was racing in her ear.

"Bad weather for baseball, " she amended.

He let out a little chuckle. The woman was obsessed. "No game tonight, for sure."

"Maybe Wednesday."

He nodded against the pillow and played with her hair. He brushed the soft strands away from her temple to reveal the small white scar diagonal to her eyebrow. He ran the tip of his finger over the shiny surface recalling how he and Foreman had to instruct the mechanic how to drill into her head to relieve the fluid build up in her brain. And how relieved he was when she woke up. He had cared for her then. But he was in denial then and she was 9000 miles away. He was safe from any attachment to her and any connection that would have put him in danger of feeling too much.

She leaned on her elbow raising herself to look down into his face. She had a serious look on her face. "I was thinking."

"About what?" His insides tightened in dismay. He wasn't ready to talk.

"I was thinking about giving the tickets to my father so he could go to the remainder of the game, " she said in a small voice and then bit her lip.

He let out a laugh of relief and touched his hand to her face. "If that's what you want to do, that's fine with me." Her dedication to her dad was admirable. Fathers and daughter were distinctly different than fathers and sons.

"You won't mind, " she asked.

"No, we went, we saw part of it. They're your tickets, " he told her. "If you want to give them to him, then do it. I don't care." She could have asked him to give her father his '68 corvette and he would have done it if meant that he didn't have to open up about what he was mulling over in his mind.

"Thank you, " she said with a bright smile. She went to leave the bed and he tightened his hold on her waist.

"Where are you going? This is good sleeping weather, remember?"

She leaned down and gave him a kiss. "If I stay in bed with you, I won't ever get out. I have to shower and go to the hospital for a few hours."

He pouted and made sad eyes. "Are you sure? I can make it worth your while?"

"Yes and I know." She blinked her saucy eyes at him and he thought it was probably a good idea for her get out of bed now while he'd still let her.

"Fine, " he acquiesced and she slipped form his grasp. He watched her pad her way out the room and into the bathroom. When he heard the shower start, he rolled heavily over onto his side. He fell back to sleep quickly listening to the sound of the rain.

He slept for a little over an hour more and woke to an empty apartment. Cate had evidently left for work. He rose from bed slowly. His leg was holding a grudge from the cold chill he had put it through last night as well as the many, many stairs he had to climb to get back up to the concourse level to exit the stadium. In the back of his mind he was glad she had wanted to give her father the tickets. Then he wouldn't have to go back, he could sit on his couch and watch the rest of the game with a fire burning and a bourbon in his hand.

Swallowing two Vicodin, he made his way slowly into the bathroom to shower hoping that some hot water would do him some good both physically and mentally. He had opened up some long forgotten, deeply dormant thoughts that he wasn't ready to address just yet. He needed clarity. He needed some time. Turning on the water, he undressed and stepped into the hot stream letting it course around his aching body. He pressed his hands against the cold tile of the wall for support and let the hot water loosen his tight muscles.

Feeling some of his tension drain, he turned slowly and noticed new shampoo bottles sitting on the edge of the tub. He picked one up. It was not his normal bottle. That one was off to the other side where he'd left it yesterday. This one was clearly a lot more expensive than his 99 cent brand. He then recognized it as the same kind that Cate had in her shower. He opened it and sniffed at the familiar scent of coconut and mint. She had obviously decided that she needed a little better quality and purchased a set for when she showered at his place. He liked the thought, but he ignored that as he poured some into his hand and washed his own short hair, letting her scent envelope him. He began to relax as he lathered up his hair and briefly thought about the merit of having good shampoo before he brushed that thought off as slightly gay. Foregoing the conditioner, being that using it was along those same lines, he quickly soaped up and got out before he spent too much time thinking about her scent all over his body and how he wanted to taste every square inch of her coconut scented skin. He would have enough trouble walking today, he didn't any additional hindrance.

Showered, dressed and teeth brushed he went into the kitchen to see if there was anything he could throw down his trap before going in to the hospital. His patient was being discharged today, so the text message had said from Foreman. He was in now rush because it meant that he'd have to spend the better part of the day hiding from Cuddy to make good on his extra clinic hours he owed her from the tickets. God damn the things he'd do for that woman.

He found a note on the refrigerator in her handwriting. He lifted it off the magnet.

_Greg, Gonna have dinner with Dad tonight to give him tix… There's food in the fridge. Don't know what time I'll be back and Sexy Kitty needs some company. I'll see you tomorrow… C_.

She added a smiley face in a heart after her signature. He smiled and put the note on the counter before opening the fridge. He found milk, eggs, orange juice, iced tea which he promptly open and took a swig out of the container. Then he hit the jackpot, the deli drawer was full of cold cuts and cheese. She had gotten him a pound and a half of pastrami, some swiss, turkey and roast beef and provolone. He groaned out loud. "Oh, yessss!" He really, really, really … _liked_ this woman. He unwrapped the turkey and the provolone and ate a few pieces leaning against the counter. He'd save the pastrami for dinner since he was apparently going to be on his own tonight. That thought felt a little weird but he pushed it back in his mind. It was all good. He needed a little space anyway. It would be good to get his thoughts in order and just be by himself for a bit. Time to regroup. Right? _Right_.

Without even think he picked up her note and carefully tore the little smiley face heart off of his note and put it into the bill fold of his wallet. Stowing it back in his jeans he grabbed his cane and headed out the door. _Clinic duty, look out_.


	23. Chapter 23: Dinner with Dad

Sessions Chapter 23: Dinner with Dad

Cate settled herself into the wooden booth after kissing her father 'hello' on the cheek, taking off her damp coat and scarf. It was still teaming with rain outside. She had met him at his favorite place, Muldoon's Irish bar and Grille around the corner from his old precinct. The atmosphere was dark like an old cop bar but the food was good and he'd been a regular since his days on the force. She didn't like to drive back into Philadelphia much but it was necessary evil to see him. He still lived in their old house in University City where she had grown up and her mother had died. Her father was a robbery homicide detective for 35 years in South Philly. He lived and breathed the police force while her mother was a research librarian at Drexel University. Everyone had said that they were a mismatch from the start, the stubborn hard nosed cop and the bookish, quiet librarian. But her father had loved her mother with a passion and loyalty that had softened his hard edges to a loving father and family man. His family was his haven away from the brutality of the life he saw everyday on the streets. He was tough cop who worked tirelessly through the riots and strikes of the seventies to the drug wars in the eighties. He never spoke of his work at home but when his friends and co-workers came over for barbeques and get-togethers, he was respected and spoken of fondly with a ribbing or joke for good measure.

"So you wanna tell me why this is the first time you're seeing your old man since you've been home from the South Pole for a month?" he father started right in on her in his gruff, no nonsense voice.

She sighed and smiled. "I've been getting settled back in."

He looked at her with his piercing black eyes. "What's there to settle in?"

"Just getting back to work at the hospital, recovering from the time difference, that sort of stuff, " she explained lamely.

"How have you been feeling since your incident, " he asked. He'd been overly concerned for her since her episode with the broken toe that almost killed her. She had emailed him after the whole affair to let him know what had occurred because she knew there'd be no hiding it from him when she returned and he was her dad after all, he had a right to know she'd almost died. She just wasn't quite sure how to explain to him how the whole thing had led her to the new man in her life. House. She knew the two would not gel very well. They were both too obstinate to let either one be the second man in her life.

"I've been good, " she said easily. "It's like nothing ever happened."

"That boy had to drill a hole in your head Catie, it wasn't nothing, " he said with a heavy dose of fatherly concern.

"I'm fine now, no relapses, no complications, " she assured him.

"I knew you shouldn't have gone down there, that no-good philandering…."

"Dad, you know he needed to do what he did, you would have done the same thing, " she said cutting off his familiar tirade about Bill. It was no secret how he felt about the man.

"If he were me, he wouldn't have been in the position to choose in the first place."

The waitress came over to take their drink orders. Cate selected a red wine while her dad ordered his usual scotch and soda on the rocks. They placed their order for food without even looking at the menus. They chose their usual, flatiron steak with sautéed onions and mushrooms, garlic mashed potatoes and salad. It was Charlie's specialty and nothing else seemed to satisfy her when she decided that she'd try something else. She always wished she had gotten the steak instead.

"Dad, I don't want to talk about Bill tonight, " she warned him off the subject. They had been over the whole situation many times before she had left for Antarctica and it had been worn out. Nothing new could come from another conversation about him.

"You're not seeing him again, are you?" he asked.

"No, why would you ask that, " she said pointedly.

"I stopped by your place last week and you weren't home, " he said. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched her reaction to that little tidbit of information.

"I was probably at work, " she said dismissively.

"It was nine o'clock at night, " he said flatly.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"What were you doing in Princeton at nine o'clock at night?" she countered.

"I was checking in on my little girl after seeing a guy about a pool table, " he told her.

She tilted her head curiously. She didn't know which to address first, the fact that he was checking in on her or the fact that he was seeing a guy about a pool table. Thankfully that waitress came with their drinks and she didn't have to respond until after she had a good sip of her wine.

"Sometimes I work late, " she told him and then added, "Sometimes I'm with a friend."

He grimaced at her statement confirming that he was on the right track. "The friend who was out with you that night I talked to you in the bar after the Phillies made the World Series? The one who got you those tickets?"

"Yes, that friend." She leveled her gaze at him. "I've been seeing someone since I've been back."

He pressed his barrel chested torso against the wooden back of the bench and sighed. "I see."

Cate waited to see if he was going to ask his questions but he pursed his lips and remained quiet leaving it to her. "He's a doctor."

Her father rolled his eyes and sipped his beer before saying, "Another co-worker."

"No not really. We both work at the hospital but we really don't work together. His name is Greg House, he's one of the best diagnosticians in the country. People come to him when no one else can figure out what's wrong with them."

"Pretty prestigious, " he said, there wasn't any real admiration in his tone, however.

"He's a brilliant doctor, " she said, the pride oozing out of her before she could stop it. He raised an eyebrow at her and she sipped her wine to hide her embarrassment. "He's the one who helped me in the South Pole."

"Well then I suppose I owe this renowned doctor my gratitude, " he said.

She shook her head. "No, he won't see it that way, " she said thinking about how House would shrug off any kind of grateful sentimentality associated with his job. "He thinks of medicine as a puzzle or a challenge. It's what makes him so good at it. The human element isn't part of it for him."

"How can you be a doctor and not deal with the human element, " he questioned. "It's like police work, you can't take the human element out of the equation."

"You'd understand if you met him, " she said with a little grimace.

"Am I gonna get to meet him, " he asked crossing his big arms. She was amazed that her father was still as large of a man as she had always remembered him. He had grayed and become weathered as he had aged but he was still in excellent shape for a man of sixty-five.

"Maybe, " she said, "I'm not sure where this is going just yet."

"But you're spending a lot of time with him, " it was statement more than it was a question.

"Yeah, " she said evasively not wanting to elude to the fact that she'd been sleeping in his bed every night since that night at the bar. It was amazing how she could be so confident and self-assured but when she was with her dad she felt like she was thirteen again and afraid about how he was going to react.

"So this Greg House, famous brilliant doctor, would your mother like him?"

Cate pressed her lips together and considered her father's question. He'd never taken that angle before. She smiled thinking about her mom and her quiet way of perceiving people. Her mother would most certainly be concerned. "Mom would say that he wears his pain like badge to keep everyone out."

"That's not a glowing review, " he said.

"Greg is not an easy person to get to know, " she said carefully. "He's been through a lot and has a lot of defense mechanisms firmly in place. He lives with a disability that causes him tremendous amount of physical pain on any given day but he refuses empathy or sympathy, he equates it to pity. He's proud and arrogant and caustic with most people because he can't tolerate stupidity. He takes risks and liberties that most colleagues would balk at and call unethical but he does it because he knows he's right, to save his patient. It's why he's so good at what he does."

"He sounds like a gem, " her father said derisively.

"He sounds like someone else I know, " she volleyed pointedly back at him.

"Is he good to you?" he asked ignoring her remark about his own personality.

She smiled warmly thinking about House and how he was when he was alone with her. "There's a side to him that's funny and playful and makes me feel… special, like I've been given a secret pass into the inner sanctum that no one else is allowed to enter."

Her father chuckled looking at her with is eyes gleaming. "You're so like your mother. Both of you always knew how to tame the savage beast."

She laughed. "I wouldn't quite call it that."

"He doesn't seem like a nice guy but there's obviously something that you see in him because I know you don't put up with disrespect."

"He's different than anyone I've ever been with, " she said. That much was for sure.

He father shook his head and smiled solemnly. "I know that look in your eyes; you're in love with him already."

She let out a laugh. "No, no, it's way too soon to tell. It's only been a few weeks." At least that's what she'd been telling herself for the past few days.

"Uh huh, " he muttered not believing her. She sipped her wine and nearly choked on it when he asked, "Are you sleeping with him?"

"Dad!" she exclaimed once she stopped coughing.

He shrugged his big shoulders. "What?"

"I'm not telling you that, " she evaded, praying that her cheeks weren't blushing and giving away the answer to that horribly inappropriate question.

"I'm just trying to get a handle on the situation, " he said simply. "I mean you've been home for a month and seeing him for almost as long and you're so busy that you haven't had the time to see me, so he's obviously monopolizing your time. You haven't been home. I can only reach you on our cell phone. It's deductive reasoning."

"It's detectiving and sticking your nose in where it's gonna get smacked, " she said fixing him with a stare.

The waitress came at that moment with a heavy tray holding their steaks still sizzling on their metal plates. Cate's stomach growled and cooled a little bit of her inherited Irish temper.

"Fine, I'll let it go for now, " he said before digging into his steak with fervor.

Grateful to take a respite in their food, they sat in companionable silence and ate for a while. He offered up the information about this pool table he had gone to investigate last week. He apparently decided that he needed something to entertain himself and his buddies. He had wanted to put one in the basement since before her mother died but she would never give in to him. He figured that now she was gone she'd have no room to complain about it anymore. The pool table was being delivered tomorrow. Her father was a simple guy. He fished for one week in the summer; he drank with the guys every Tuesday and played cards every Thursday for the last thirty years. A pool table in the basement wasn't a stretch.

They finished their dinner and were onto coffee when she decided to surprise him with the tickets. She reached into her purse and took out an envelope. She slid it across the table to him. He glanced curiously at her lifting it in his hand.

"What's this?" he asked speculatively.

"Just open it, " she said with a smile.

He eyed her strangely and did as she directed. Slipping the two torn ticket stubs out her raised his eyes to her confused. "These are your tickets to Game 5."

"Yes and now they're yours, " she said.

His eyes narrowed and then widened becoming clouded with emotion. "Catie girl…I don't know what to say."

"There for you, Dad. Enjoy them, " she told him, her heart warming to his genuine gratitude shining in his eyes. "They're really good seats."

Her father was speechless. He had waited twenty-eight years to see the Phillies win a World Series again. And now he was going to be there in person. He reached his large hand across the table and clasped it over her fingers squeezing them tightly. She choked back a wave of emotion and smiled at him. It meant a lot to her to be able to do this for him. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure Dad. I'm glad I was able to share it with you."

Her father sat back and let out a breath. He still was in shock.

"So who are you going to take with you?" she asked.

"Whew, I don't know," he said contemplating his list of friends in his mind. "Maybe Artie, or Joe, or… Frank." Frank was his partner for ten years but had left the force fifteen years ago when he was hit by a stray bullet in a shoot-out during a gang murder investigation.

"I think Frank would really appreciate going, " she said.

"Yeah, I think you're right, " he nodded agreeing with her. "Are you sure this is ok with the Doc?"

She smiled. "Yes, he's totally ok with it. He got the tickets for me and said they were mine to do with as I pleased."

Her father nodded again. He reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone to give the good news to Frank. Cate's heart soared. She texted House. He's speechless. It's a first

House texted back. As long as you're happy

I am very happy

Good


	24. Chapter 24: Bad Morning

Sessions 24: Bad Morning

House narrowed his eyes and dipped his head low avoiding all eye contact as he limped heavily through the lobby of the hospital to the elevator. He made it in and up to diagnostics without having to talk to anybody. He dumped his knapsack on his chair and shrugged out of his leather jacket before putting on his blazer over his Who t-shirt. He glimpsed Thirteen out of the corner of his eye sitting at the conference table. She was drinking coffee and reading a magazine. When he hobbled into the room, she looked up at him and said hello. He rudely ignored her and headed for the coffee maker.

He sighed loudly as he shifted various things around the counter. Sugar, creamer, tea, more tea… who the fuck drinks tea? Kutner's mug, Taub's, and Foreman's mug. Extra mugs. No red mug. He couldn't find his red mug. He let out a growl and slid a glance at Thirteen who was watching him with an amused smirk on her face.

"It's in your office where you left it yesterday, " she informed him impassively over her magazine.

He rolled his eyes and clamped his jaw down hobbling back into his office to retrieve his mug. Sure enough it was on his desk. How he did not see it when he changed his jacket was beyond him. It was sitting in the middle of his blotter. He came back into the conference room and dumped the left-overs into the sink before rinsing it out with a quick swish of water. Holding it up to the light from the window, he peered inside to make sure it didn't have anything growing. Satisfied, he poured himself a cup of new coffee from the carafe. Adding creamer and sugar, he stirred it and leaned heavily against the counter. He took a sip and immediately burned his tongue and throat as he choked down the extra bold swill she was trying to pass off as coffee. He closed his eyes and muttered an oath. He just wanted a fucking good cup of coffee. Was that so hard to accomplish?

"If your going to ever expect to fully replace Cameron on this team you better go have her teach you how to make coffee right, " he snarked at her.

She raised a thin eyebrow at him. "Somebody wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Yeah, something like that."

She nodded her head with a little light twinkling in her cat like eyes. She kind of reminded him a little bit of Sexy Kitty and he grimaced at her. A light of realization came over her face. "Ah, first night alone, " she said.

He pinned her with a stare. He forgot how perceptive she was sometimes.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked with a knowing smirk.

Anything he said was going to be a lie so he said nothing and sipped more of his disgusting coffee. It was better than the alternative of actually having to talk to her.

"No wonder you're exceptionally pleasant this morning. You should hide from Cuddy then, she's breathing down my neck about your charts and wanted to know when you were coming in, " she told him.

He nodded begrudgingly in acknowledgment of her warning. She rose from the table and tossed the magazine onto the clear surface. "There's a good article in there about breast implants in Hollywood. You'll like it."

"Where are you going?" he groused.

"I'm going to find out how to make good coffee, " she tossed over her shoulder before she left the room.

He huffed a laugh and grabbed the magazine off the table before going back in his office to pretend to do some chart work.

It pissed him off that Thirteen had read him so easily. When did he become so transparent? She was indeed perceptive, but how could she know that he didn't sleep worth a damn last night? Last night sucked. First off, he was bored all night. He couldn't find anything to watch on TV. He played piano for while, tried some _Guitar Hero_ and briefly contemplated going out to _Gamestop_ to get a new game but he'd already had two bourbons by that point so that was out of the question. He forced himself to watch _Bring it on: All or Nothing_, for the third time. That Hayden Panettiere was a little Hottie McHottie but even she wasn't doing it for him last night. His missed Cate. God when did he turn into Wilson? Must have been when he became so freaking see-through. It was only one night. Yet, he missed hanging out with her, watching TV with her, joking about things with her. He missed sleeping next to her. Hell, he flat out couldn't sleep without her anymore. That was a shocking revelation.

Last night was supposed to be good for them. They were supposed to be in their separate spaces away from each other. A little distance for some perspective. But all it did was tell him how much he needed to have her around. It didn't afford him any clarity other than to tell him he'd turned into a lovesick puppy dog. And that made him cranky.

He put his iPod on and slipped his breast implant article into one of the many file folders on his desk. He read for a bit before Cuddy came into his office. She crossed her arms over her own pert boobs and glared at him. He didn't bother to turn off his music. He just lifted the folder and gestured that he was doing his charts. Ironically, that seemed to satisfy her and she mercifully left the office without a word. He screwed his face into a frown. Wow, that was easy. Mental note to remember that one.

The day passed rather slowly. He had lunch with coma guy, took a nap in the OBGYN lounge and then went into the doctor's lounge on his own floor when it was finally time to watch General Hospital with a can of Coke and a bag of chips. The door opened and Thirteen came into the room with an airy sigh. She plopped herself down onto the sofa next to him. He glared at her form the corner of his one eye because she was so close to him her shoulder was practically making out with his. She sat and watched in silence not making any effort to give him any space in his extra large personal bubble back. When the commercial came she finally spoke. "I went to see Cate today."

He looked angrily at her. "Why?" _What the hell?_

"I went to talk to her about my Huntington's, " she said not moving her eyes from the plasma screen.

He nodded and tilted his head askew in acknowledgment. Well, that was different. "And?"

"She's good, " she said with sincere respect.

He nodded again. "Yes. "

"She doesn't make you feel like you've fucked up your life so bad that there's no hope for you. " she said playing with her delicate fingers in her lap. "She doesn't judge."

"No, she doesn't, " he agreed.

"I feel comfortable talking to her, " she admitted.

"It helped?"

"Yeah, I'm going to see her again next week."

"Good."

The show came back from commercial and she stopped talking, having learned a long ago never to interrupt when General Hospital was on. They sat together not moving, just watching quietly. When the show ended, she leaned closer to him and sniffed. He moved away an inch and stared at her. "What are you doing?"

"You smell like her, " she said with a little laugh. "Coconutty."

He rolled his eyes and shifted over away from her sniffing nose. He'd used her damn shampoo again this morning. "Stop sniffing around my girlfriend. I'm not sharing her with you."

She laughed. "You know she's good for you, right?" He narrowed his eyes into a scowl and she laughed harder. "Although I don't quite get what's in it for her."

"What? My devilishly handsome good looks aren't enough " he retorted acerbically. "And if not that, I'm extremely well endowed." He waggled his eyebrows at her and she shoved him.

"You're an ass. Don't let her get away, ok, " she said seriously.

He shook his head and looked at her. "I'm not." He clicked off the TV and shoved the remote into the cushions of the couch. She clucked her tongue at him and shook her head disapprovingly. They both stood and he turned to look at her. "Keep seeing her. It will help."

She nodded her head. "I will." She shrugged. "Between the two of us and our self-destructive behavior, she's got her hands full."

"The woman deals with sociopaths; we're a piece of cake."

"I think you might fall into the former category, " Thirteen said with a grin.

"It's all part of my winning personality, " he joked. He limped out of the room with her following in toe. "I'm outta here, long day." He made pretense of yawning loudly.

She rolled her eyes at him. "No clinic today?"

"Nope, I worked on charts all day, " he said doing air quotes. "Can you believe that Angelina's tits aren't real? I'm very depressed."

"Tragic, I know."


	25. Chapter 25: Better Night

Sessions 25: Better Night

When Cate knocked at the door later that evening, House practically leapt to his feet to answer it. She was bringing take out Italian for dinner from Mimmo's. They had touched base after he had made it home from his early day at the hospital and agreed that they would do dinner and watch the rest of Game 5 at his place. He opened the door wearing only his T-shirt and jeans. The cool air from the hallway skimmed over his bare toes and he held the door open wide for her to quickly enter with their food packages. It was freezing outside for late October because of the foul weather that had moved in Monday night. He already had a fire going inside to warm the chill away. He shut the door against the drafty outside hall and helped her out of her coat before pulling her swiftly into his arms. He ran his hands down the length of her soft warm sweater against her back and stopped to cup her bottom tightly against him as he kissed her deeply in greeting. She melted into him and kissed him back as she purred seductively against his lips.

"Well, hello to you too, " she said in her throaty voice as she pulled back to look into his eyes.

"You come bringing food and I'm hungry, " he said drawing his attention to the delicious smells coming from the bags on the coffee table. She stepped out of his embrace and went into the kitchen. He could hear the cabinet doors open and plates clinking against the silverware as he sat down and opened the packages to inspect what she had ordered. Veal Saltimbocca, Mussels Marinara, Penne vodka, salad, and garlic roles. His stomach growled in fervent appreciation. He hadn't eaten since his bag of chips while watching _General Hospital_ with Thirteen and it was almost seven o'clock. She returned, deposited the plates and then went back for the bottle of wine he had opened on the counter earlier with two wine glasses. When she came back this time, she slipped off her shoes and sat on the couch to his left tucking her feet under her crossed legs. He poured her a glass and handed it to her before taking his own.

She smiled at him and held out her glass to toast. "Here's to the Phillies winning tonight."

He chuckled and clinked his glass to hers. "How many times have you talked to your father so far tonight?"

"Two, once before he left and once when they got to the seats, " she said placing her glass down so she could help him dish out the food.

He shook his head in bewilderment and held out a plate for her. "I'll bet he's happier than a pig in shit."

She nodded with a smile. "He said that you must be one hell of a doctor for some moron to give up seats like those for Game 5 of the World Series."

He shrugged indifferently. "To be honest, I don't even know who they came from or how exactly Cuddy managed to get them." _So, she had told him about that_. He wondered briefly what else they talked about.

She regarded him with a warm smile. "Whoever it was, they must have been pretty grateful , nevertheless."

He shook off her praise and dished out a piece of veal for her along with three mussels and some penne. He was never comfortable with compliments, even if they were coming from her. "They were probably from someone Cuddy blew at a fundraiser last year. Where do you think the hospital gets all its money? It doesn't just run itself, you know."

She rolled her eyes at him effectively diverted as she sat back with her plate of food. After piling on his own food onto his plate, he switched the channel from _Friends_ to _Sportscenter_ so they could watch the pre-game analysis. He had caught most of it earlier on _PTI_ and _Around the Horn_ on ESPN when he came home but he figured that she would want to watch since this was probably the first time she sat down to relax all day. She said she had been in and out of the ER and had a full load of appointments today.

"Thirteen came to see you today, " he asked casually after swallowing a mouthful.

"Yes, " she answered circumspectly. "You know that I can't talk about any of it."

He nodded with a frown. "I know. It's good that she'll continue to see you."

"Yes, it will help her cope, " she said.

"It's better than the women and the drugs, " he commented ignoring the irony of that statement coming from his own mouth.

"Hey, kettle?" she kicked him with her foot almost spilling his plate.

He laughed, of course she wouldn't let that one slip by unnoticed. "What? I make it an art form."

"Yeah, ok, " she said. "If that's the spin you want to put on it."

"Yeah, that's the spin I want to put on it, " he said through a chuckle. "She said you were easy to talk to. I said you were just _easy_…and I think now she wants to ask you out. I told her I wasn't going to share you with her."

"Unless of course you want to share, we could…" she said.

He nearly choked on his penne and coughed to clear the pasta from his throat. She laughed mercilessly at him. "Ha, just kidding."

He frowned a pout at her. "That's cruel to toy with me like that. My emotions are very fragile."

She grinned and eyed him over the rim of her wine glass. "I think I'd like to have you first myself before I would even contemplate sharing."

He looked at his watch. "I'm free right now?" He knew they were just playing but her dark brown eyes stirred a rumbling in his chest that he had to push down and out of the way.

She shook her head and gave him a sad dramatic little frown. "Sorry, I have date with Chase Utley tonight."

"You keep talking about girl on girl and I promise it'll only take like two minutes, " he said with a wiggle to his eyebrows for emphasis.

She raised a finely arched eyebrow at him and he laughed. He needed to end this conversation. Nothing good could come out of it.

They finished eating and cleared up the plates before returning to the sofa with the rest of the wine. He ignored how incredibly domesticated the whole scene was, unwilling to admit that it both scared him and made it happy at the same time. It was like they had been in this choreographed dance for years together except he couldn't dance and somehow they were going to fall of the stage eventually. He pushed the self-deprecating thought back away where it came from and took a swallow of his wine.

Cate leaned her back against the arm of the sofa and pushed her feet under his thigh to warm her toes. He instinctively took her feet out and placed them on top of his thigh. Her feet were bare and he noticed that she had painted her toenails a deep crimson red. _Hmm_, _Sexy_. Her feet were cold, of course, and he began to massage the blood flow back into her white extremities.

"Where are your socks?" he reprimanded.

She gave him a sheepish grin. "I was wearing my Steve Madden's. Can't wear socks with them."

"Steve Madden doesn't make shoes that you can wear socks with?" Woman and their stupid shoes.

"Not sexy wedges that go good with jeans, " she protested and then squealed, "Hey!" when he flicked her big toe sending a burn through her foot as a reminder of her need to cover her hands and toes when it was cold.

"You need socks, it's twenty-five degrees outside, " he chided.

"Yes, Daddy, " she mocked and nudged him with her sexy crimson painted toe. Impulsively, he grabbed her leg and pulled her down off the arm of the sofa dragging her close to him flat on her back. She let out a little gasp as her sweater bunched up around her ribs from the sudden motion. His stomach did a flip-flop at the sight of her smooth creamy skin. He leaned over her and pressed his lips to the soft white skin on her stomach earning a scream and a giggle as she tried to writhe away from his bearded chin on her belly.

"Keep calling me Daddy and I'm gonna have to spank you, " he laughed against her stomach and she tightened reflexively bringing her hands up around he back of his head. He breathed in the scent of her skin as she threaded her fingers through his hair. He smiled against her softness and brought his head up to look into her eyes. She smiled down at him and bit her lip as she traced the edge of his ear with her finger tip. The adolescent in him thankfully took over before he almost tore open the fly of her jeans with his teeth and he instead blew a huge raspberry on her exposed belly. She screamed out loud pushing futilely against his head to make him stop. His laugh was full of childish mirth as he pulled her to sitting. "You should go put jammies on. The game is going to start soon."

She leaned into him and ran her hand up his chest before she gently kissed the side of his neck. "But you're wearing my shirt."

He tilted his head to the side shaking his head and made a face at her. "No. I'm wearing my shirt. I let you borrow it. The Who shirt is sacred."

She pouted beautifully and he almost pulled his shirt over his head for her right that second. "Fine, can I wear Pink Flloyd then?"

"Go, " he urged with a smack on her full round ass as she stood. She hurried down the hall tossing a saucy look over her shoulder at him. "And don't forget socks, " he called after her as she disappeared into his room.

He closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. He ran his hands up and over his face a few times ending at the back of his head clasping his fingers and pulling his head forward with a groan. He exhaled the remainder of his pent up craving for her and finished both his wine and hers before bringing the glasses into the kitchen sink. He leaned against the cool porcelain edge of the sink for a minute. It was getting harder and harder to keep his hands off of her. She was absolutely exquisite. He could play her like a piano. Every touch was matched with a delicate harmonic response. She was completely in tune to him and the musical lilt of her laughter warmed him to his core. On his way back out of the kitchen, he plunked a few melodic notes on the ivory keys with a contented sigh before going down the hall to change into his own jammie pants. She was magical, no doubt about it.

They were back on the sofa within ten minutes watching the game as it resumed in a flurry of Major League excitement. Joe Buck, Fox Sports announcer, rambled on and on about how this was the most unprecedented event in World Series History, a delay of game in the sixth inning due to weather. Every sports caster from coast to coast had made it the hot topic of debate for the past two days. Should they have called it before it started, should they play in a neutral venue like the Super Bowl, should they have declared the Phillies winners as the score reverted back to the fifth inning? On and on and on. House didn't care. He was just content to watch the rest of the final game with Cate curled up by his side on the sofa instead of out in the cold.

When the Phillies finally won, she jumped to her feet and cheered. He couldn't help but become caught up in her excitement as she wrapped her body around his in a bear hug.

"Oh my freaking God! I can believe this is happening. I was ten the last time they won!" she said.

"Then lets do a shot in celebration, " he suggested. "I bet you weren't allowed to do that when you were ten."

She laughed and shook her head as he hobbled quickly into the kitchen to get two shot glass and his bourbon. Coming back, she excited held the two glasses as he poured and missed a little spilling it on her fingers. She licked her fingers and made a face before handing him his glass. They laughed and clicked glasses throwing back the brown liquid. She cringed and he could see her reaction to the liquid burning her esophagus all the way down to her stomach. She did a little shudder and placed her glass on the coffee table. "That stuff is vile, I don't know how you can drink it."

He shrugged and took another shot for good measure. "I like it."

As if on cue, her cell phone began to ring. She smiled and hurried to grab it out of her purse from the floor behind the couch. "Hi Dad." She turned to look at him an apologetic smile on her lips.

House crossed his arms and leaned against the back of the couch as he listened to her talk excitedly to her dad about the remainder of the game. Her father raved about the seats and the crowd and the emotion of it all. He smiled at the wistful sound in her voice. She loved her father deeply. There was no doubt about that. He had trouble understanding how that was possible. He knew that many normal people had perfectly healthy relationships with their parents. But, he didn't. He hated his father. Pure unadulterated love was never in their equation. There was always disappointment, unrealistic expectations and retribution for imperfection. He would never speak to his father the way she was speaking to hers right now.

She ended the call and kept her back to him raising her head to look at the ceiling. She was crying. She had become overcome by the excitement of the game and her father's joy. Her sentimentality was something he would have made fun of a week ago, but now it was something that endeared her to him more and more. He limped the few steps over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She ran her trembling hands over his arms sighing. He whispered in her ear, "There's no crying in baseball, remember?"

She tried to chuckle but instead turned into him in a full hug and let out a good cry. He held onto her tightly comforting her as she let it out. He ran his hand over her hair and kissed the top of her head. Slowly, she pulled back form him and wiped at her red eyes. She covered her face embarrassed at her impromptu display of emotion. He tilted her chin up and smiled down into her eyes. "You're beautiful."

"I'm going to go wash my face, " she said touching her hand to his chest over his heart and kissed him gently on the lips before heading down the hallway.

He watched her go into the bathroom and went back by the couch to wait for her. He started up the Xbox deciding that a good ass kicking in _Soulcalibur IV_ was what she needed. He set up her pink controller that he had bought her last week and loaded the game into the tray. Just as he sat down on the sofa, his phone unexpectedly rang. He looked at it foreignly wondering who the hell was calling at this hour. He muttered an oath, praying that it wasn't one of the ducklings with a new patient. Without looking at the caller ID he picked it up on the third ring.

"What?" he said distractedly cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he cycled through the characters to get to Nightmare.

"_Gregory? It's your mother."_


	26. Chapter 26: Business as Usual

Sessions 26: Business as Usual

House entered his office late, as usual. The ducklings were assembled already at the conference table drinking coffee, as usual. He had come in through the ER and picked up an interesting tidbit of a case from Cameron who was always looking out for a new puzzle for him, as usual.

_As usual_.

He paused and ran his thumb over his forehead and thought today was no different than any other day. It was business _as usual_. Nothing was different in his life. Nothing had changed. He was the same as he was before. His father was dead and life went on. So what? People died everyday. As usual. No big deal.

"House your mother's called twice, " Taub said to him as entered the office. He distinctly ignored him and tried to generate excitement relaying symptoms about their newest patient instead. Twenty-five years old, Chinese female raised in America, treated in China for acute abdominal pain and vomiting blood. Surgeons in China had brutally removed a foot of bowel without any decrease in pain. _Shocker_.

He hooked his cane on the door jam between his office and the conference room as he went in to switch jackets. "Our patient has been known to take a drink on non-occasions, " he called out to them.

"Her messages sounded kind of urgent, " Kutner said ignoring his continuation of the patient history.

House frowned and stood in the doorway adjusting the sleeves of his blazer. "That's how women sound when their husband of fifty years dies."

A silence fell over the room like someone had let out a fart a church. No one knew what to say. They were shocked at his bald dispassionate way of relaying what was supposed to be sad news. They looked to each other for confirmation that he had indeed just said what he said and then their faces changed to uneasy concern. Thirteen stared at him. Kutner looked like a lost puppy. Foreman's brow furrowed. Taub tilted his head at him and sighed. _Business as usual_.

"Your dad died?" Thirteen asked with a sense of caring he didn't think she held for him. "Are you…"

"Yep, fine, " he cut her off. He wasn't going to get into any of it because he really was fine. "What's the differential diagnosis for vomiting blood, acute abdominal pain…"

"House call your mom, " Taub interrupted him.

He sighed exasperatedly. "What are you my mom?" Between his real mom, Cuddy and now Cate, he had enough of those already, he didn't need another one.

"We can continue this differential in five minutes after you call your mom, " his oldest duckling insisted.

He leaned heavily on his cane and sighed. "Since when did you become my conscience about everything? I distinctly don't remember…"

"I don't know what your daddy issues are but don't deflect them onto me, " Taub stopped him pointedly.

Foreman, never one for getting caught up in the personal emotion of anything, spoke up from the discarded folder he had picked up off the table. "Does anyone read Chinese?" _That a boy. Way to hop on my insensitivity train_. _ I'm so proud… _"Unless we know what this says, this stuff is useless."

"Kutner, you're kind of Asian, get that translated, " he instructed turning to the young doctor. He nearly smiled when Kutner stared at him open mouthed. He was so easy to rattle it was almost no challenge at all. It just wasn't as much fun as usual today.

"It could be Meckle's diverticulum, " Thirteen offered picking up on his avoidance train. _Good girl_… He agreed that it was a possibility. They decided it was too high for a colonoscopy but could be seen on an ultrasound. He was almost out the door deciding to do the ultrasound himself when they started in again.

"When is the funeral?" Thirteen asked.

House shrugged. "Tomorrow."

She tilted her head at him and her eyes grew concerned. "Aren't you going?"

"Nope."

"Does Cate know, " Taub asked. There goes his conscience again…

"Nope."

Foreman snorted a derisive laugh. "He probably didn't even tell her."

"You need to tell Cate, " Taub said. Thirteen nodded imperceptibly with her big eyes on him affirming what Taub said.

"Then he'd have to talk about it, and actually have to acknowledge that it really did happen, " Foreman said rising from the table to block the door. "And look at how forthcoming he's been so far."

He stopped and let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not deflecting because I'm trying to avoid something deep," he began by way of defending himself. "I'm deflecting because I'm trying to avoid something shallow. Seriously, I'm fine. I didn't even like the man."

Foreman shook his head at him and cleared his passage through the door. Thirteen rose and put her hand softly on his arm. She didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes told him that she was sorry. He nodded at her and left the room.

He was going to be in big trouble with Cate. Sooner than he had figured however, now that he had spilled the beans to the ducklings. He hadn't told her last night after he hung up with his mother. He hadn't wanted to explain anything or concern her with it. He wasn't feeling anything and he certainly didn't want to talk about. Foreman was right about that much. She would have done her thing and gotten him to talk about it somehow in her sneaky round about keenly perceptive way and he just didn't want to deal with that last night. He had wanted to spend time with her having fun, not rehashing old shit that was better off buried forever with the son of a bitch when they put him in the ground.

He didn't care that his father was dead. He was relieved because now it was done. That chapter in his life was closed. He was busy forging a new chapter with Cate. That was what he did care about. He knew he should have told her and he did care about the fact that she was going to be upset with him. But, it was self-preservation. She would get that, right? He hoped.

He entered the patient room and conducted the ultra-sound determining that there was no diverticulum after which she promptly coughed in his face. The caring loving adoptive parents who had not taught her to cover her mouth when she coughed entered with a box of her medications for him to review. He had discovered a bag of licorice root among the contents of the box. _Damn it, that wasn't good at all_. He immediately left the room carrying the ziplock bag full of the greenish root. He spied Foreman at the nurses' station and tossed the bag to him form across the hall.

"What's this?" Foreman asked.

"It's licorice root, " he said keeping his distance by the wall. He covered his mouth and looked around as someone passed near by.

"No thanks, I'm good, " Foreman declined and tossed the bag back to him.

He threw it back. "The parents found this in with a bunch of her medications. It seems the Chinese doctors were treating her with it. Licorice root contains glycyrrhizin."

Foreman looked around nervously and dropped his voice. "They were treating her for SARS?"

House pushed the elevator button with his cane so as not to infect it. "It would seem so. Put her in isolation and start her on ribavirin and interferon." The doors opened and he peered inside to make sure no one was inside. He entered with a last look at Foreman before the doors closed. He pursed his lips together ina frown and wiggled his lips around against the underside of his nose in thought. Well, being exposed to SARS was a definite excuse to get him out of going to the funeral. He had to admit, it was a little extreme even for him, but a stroke of good luck, nonetheless. He'd keep to himself in his office for a while to determine if he had any symptoms developing and then he'd take precautions from there once the team determined if it was indeed SARS.

A short while later, feeling perfectly fine, he sat in his office checking his emails. There was a light knock on the door. Cuddy entered with that look on her face. He sighed. She always had that look on her face. It was her "why are you such a pain in my ass" look, except today it was tempered with a little bit of sympathy.

"Sorry about your father, " she said.

"I'm not, " he groused running his hand over the back of his head. "Are we done emoting now?"

She waved a syringe at him and came closer to the desk.

"Tell me that's liquid Vicodin, " he pleaded.

"We're giving everyone IG shots to everyone who's been in contact with your patient. Shockingly none of the nurses volunteered to administer yours." He rolled up his sleeve. She frowned and shook her head. "It goes better in a larger muscle. Drop your pants."

"Yes, Oh Dark Mistress of the Night, I bet you say that to all the bad little boys, " he quipped and rose form his chair to lean over the desk. A month ago this would have been a titillating conversation, now it just felt kind of awkward. She stabbed him with a little too much force and he winced and looked over his shoulder at her to see a smirk appear on her lips. He narrowed his eyes and refastened his belt.

"The funeral's tomorrow, " she said.

"My mom called you?" Since when did his mother become so on the offensive in her maneuverings?

"There is a 3:40 flight out of Newark. If you leave now you can be in Lexington tonight." He stared at her perplexed as to why his mother had called Cuddy of all people. "Your mother wants you to deliver a eulogy."

He let out a breath. "Eulogy – from the Greek for 'good word'. If she asked me to deliver a bastardogy I'd be happier."

"Then be a grown up. Call your mother and tell her you're sick with grief but that you're too busy to make it down there."

"She knows when I'm lying."

"Then start writing." She punctuated her order with a firm look and left his office. He watched her go and shook his head. He couldn't wait for this whole ordeal to pass on by without so much as a whimper. It didn't deserve anything more than that. He had more important things to deal with. He was sorry for his mother but not sorry enough to make him want to go and speak false platitudes about a man he couldn't stand. Of course, his mother wouldn't see it that way, she never did. His beeper went off breaking his train of thought. He checked the message. Their patient was tachycardic. He rose to go check it out but his world tilted on its axis when he got to his feet. He saw the room spin and his ears rang as he crashed to the floor blacking out.

To be continued…


	27. Chapter 27: Wilson's Back

Sessions 27: Wilson's Back

Hello All…. This is the moment you've all been waiting for. Wilson is finally back and insanity ensues. I cannot take credit for any of the brilliance of the dialog between these two. I tip my hat to the fine writers of _House_ and take inspiration from them. I can only hope that my stuff fits in seamlessly with theirs. PS. I selected Lexington Virginia because while Lexington Kentucky would be the obvious choice, Virginia is much closer of a drive and would make more geographical sense, plus its not far outside of Richmond. With dad being military that also made sense… Enjoy!!

James Wilson watched the highway unfold before him. Mile after mile he violently berated himself for once again succumbing to the mind numbing ,fire breathing demon inside him that made him continue to enable the self-absorbed man snoring next to him in the passenger seat. No matter how hard he tried to get away from him he couldn't. He would never be able to get away. There was always a trap, always something more he needed. Always another self-revelation. Always another demand. He couldn't even feel his own grief without contemplating how it affected House. The man's selfishness was monumental. His arrogance unparalleled. His need for affirmation unrivaled. He was reviled by everyone he'd ever met, hated both those he'd ever known and caustically infamous enough for those who hadn't. And yet here James was, once again.

When Blythe House had called him this morning, a strange and unfamiliar stir of fear had come over him. Her voice was unexpected and he instantly expected the worst. He hadn't heard from House since the night he had told him he was finished being his friend. He half-expected it to be news of House's premature demise. It was a thought that had needled at him occasionally over the years. Considering the amount of Vicodin the man took on any given day, considering the vials of morphine he had hidden away that he thought no one knew about, considering the anger and pain that he lived with everyday. But, alas that wasn't the case and the part of him that still cared about humanity was glad for that. The part of him that hated House, well… that shouldn't actually be acknowledged.

House's mother had called him to ask him for help. She called because she knew her son. She knew that House would find any way he could to not attend his father's funeral. She needed her son to be there. She needed him to say goodbye despite all of the stuff that had passed between them. She needed to know that there was closure for him. Only then would she have closure for herself.

House stirred, his head bobbing forward against his chest and then snapping back up. Wilson looked at him out of the corner of his eye not taking his full glance from the road. _Great, he was awake._

He could feel House's eyes on him and he fixed his jaw refusing to look at him. He saw House smile out of his peripheral vision and he cringed inwardly. He knew exactly what House was thinking and it just wasn't the case no matter how much House wanted to believe it to be true.

"I am not doing this because I care, " he announced forcefully.

"Cuddy drugged me, " House said a bit groggy. He was quiet for moment and then smiled. "My mom didn't call Cuddy. She called you, " he said with a lilt of happiness in his revelation.

Wilson ignored him. He watched the road intently refusing to play into his game.

"I knew you couldn't stay away. I knew you loved me too much."

"I'm doing this for your mom." It was a flat statement. It was the truth.

"I'm not doing this at all. If there was something to be done, I would have done it in the year he spent dying." House searched his pockets and then looked back at Wilson. "You took my Vicodin?"

Wilson slid a glance at him.

"I'm in pain, " he whined.

Wilson took the prescription bottle out of his own jacket pocket, opened it and gave one pill to House.

House objected. "One? " He held up the little pill like it held the answers to the universe. "So, the Vicodin is my leash. One's just enough take the edge off but not enough for me to make an escape back to Plainsboro."

Wilson snorted in response.

"_Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"_

House looked around patting his jacket. "Where's my phone?"

Wilson ignored him.

"_Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"_

"It's the team, it's their ringtone, " he said. Wilson said nothing. That ringtone was so House. He knew it was the team. Foreman had to help carry House's unconscious body into the car. There was no need for them to call. They were capable of dealing with the patient without him. They were probably taking bets on whether he had killed House yet or not.

"_Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"_

House threw his hands up in the air. "Forget it. The patient's blood is on your hands."

"_Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"_

Wilson rolled his eyes. He reached inside his jacket pocket with one hand and clicked on the speakerphone. There was no way he was getting his phone.

"Help! I'm being held against my will…call the police, " he bellowed like a child into the phone.

Thirteen's voice came over the speaker to explain that the patient had thrown a clot in her hepatic vein and that Chase had performed a surgery to suck it out. They determined that her smoking coupled with a genetic disorder would have made her clot profusely. Foreman ordered blood work to determine the genetic disorder and sent the team on their way. It was quick succinct phone call that House need not have been part of. House said goodbye up with a dejected look and Wilson clicked off the call slipping the phone back into his pocket. He had been right, of course. The team didn't need him right now and he knew that itched under House's skin like a burr.

"My ring tone for you is _Dancing Queen_ by Abba, " he said conversationally. Wilson rolled his eyes. God, he was such a jerk.

House sat in his seat for a while and pouted. He stared out at the road watching the dull scene roll by as Wilson drove them closer to his parents' hometown in Virginia. He could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was trying to figure out his next course of action to avoid going to this funeral.

"_Got a black magic woman…"_

House's head perked up immediately like a dog who heard food coming in the distance. "Give me my phone, " he snapped holding his hand out.

Wilson's curiosity was peaked. _Black magic woman_? And what was that reaction?

"_Got a black magic woman…"_

House's eyes bored into him. "My phone. Now."

Wilson reached into his pocket and looked at the screen. He had a text message. House grabbed for the phone but Wilson dodged him. House reached again bumping his arm twice as he tried to pull the phone from his grasp. As the struggled like little boys over a toy, Wilson held the steering wheel tighter forcing the car to swerve a bit. He instinctively righted their course and hid the phone along side his thigh by the driver's side door.

House retreated back and seethed like a caged animal in his seat. Wilson glanced at him in amusement. Who was it that had him so rattled that he nearly cracked his jaw in half gritting his teeth in frustration? He flicked the phone open. Opening the Inbox he selected New Message from someone simply labeled as "C".

You were up early this morning. No kiss goodbye?

Wilson read it again and a guffaw escaped past his lips. He nearly drove off the road.

"You were up early this morning?! No kiss goodbye?!" he read aloud, the mirth pouring out of him.

He watched as House closed his eyes and fought to control himself.

"No kiss goodbye?!" Wilson felt his own voice escalate an entire octave in shock. "You're sleeping with someone?" To say he was incredulous would have been a gross understatement.

House shot him an ice cold stare in response.

"Someone you don't have to leave money on the nightstand for?"

"Don't."

Wilson reeled back at his sharp tone. He'd hit a nerve. This was someone that he _cared_ about. Curious…

"Who is she?" Wilson asked despite himself.

House looked out the window evading his scrutiny.

"So now you're not going to talk to me?" Wilson taunted. "That's classic."

Well, this certainly explained some anomalies that had been circulating around his brain for the past few hours. Despite that fact that he was unconscious for the better part of the day, House actually looked healthy. His skin pallor was good and pink instead of its usual grayish cast. His hair was cropped shorter. He might even deign to describe it a less messy. His clothes even looked like he might have given a shit when he got dressed this morning. Wow…

"_Got a black magic woman…"_

Another text came in. He clicked on the message.

Taub came to visit me

House glanced at him obviously desiring to know what the new message had said.

"Taub came to visit me, " he relayed.

House let out growl and rubbed his chin irritatedly with his hand. "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath.

"So she's someone at the hospital?" Wilson questioned. "Taub went to tell her where you were, because she didn't know and you're pissed about it." He stared unabashedly at this new mystery. Who the hell was he sleeping with at the hospital? Every woman within ten miles of that placed hated his guts except for… The "C" …

Wilson stared at him slack jawed. "Holy, shit, is it Cameron?"

House rolled his eyes. "It's not Cameron."

"You're lying, " Wilson accused him. "It is Cameron. Although I would have thought she'd tell me…"

"It's not Cameron."

Wilson narrowed his eyes confused. Well, if it wasn't Cameron, then who else could it be?

"I know it's not Cuddy because she wouldn't have had to ask where you were, " he deduced, since she had co-conspired with him to get him in the car. "And I don't think she'd actually touch you with a ten foot pole…"

"Will you shut up and give me my damn phone, " House complained. The tension on his face was growing fast and furiously.

"_Got a black magic woman…"_

Ah, another text. She was persistent. House stared at him. If his glare could have been any hotter, Wilson might have actually burst into flames.

Care to explain why you didn't tell me your father died?

"You didn't tell her your father died?!"

House fixed him with a pointed look from underneath his eyebrows. "This shocks you?"

"There's a whole lot that's shocking me right now, " he said honestly.

"Can I have my phone?" He held out his hand…patiently. "Please?"

Wilson tilted his head and looked at House full on. He had actually said "Please." Had they teleported into an alternate reality where he was the asshole and House was the nice one? Wilson blinked his eyes. House appeared to be sincere about wanting to respond to her. There was honest to goodness, legitimate remorse in his normally calculating blue eyes. Taking sympathy on him, he tossed him his phone.

He watched House type in his message and then hold the phone open on his leg in anticipation of her response. When it finally came, Wilson searched for a discernible reaction he could interpret. But he was having difficulty. House was quiet, his brow furrowed and his lips screwed up in a contemplative frown. Whoever this woman was she had him around her little finger. He seriously cared about this woman and it was killing him that she was angry with him. _Oh God_… he thought as another idea crossed his mind.

"Please tell me that's not Stacey, " Wilson said breaking the palpable silence.

House looked back at him and shook his head. "It's not Stacey." _Damn, three out of three wrong_.

Well, at least that was a relief. Another flair-up with Stacey would have been the stupidest thing House could have done. So still, he had no solution to this intriguing mystery. He considered his other options of who this person might have been, but he was coming up with nothing. He was drawing a complete blank. House had him stumped.

"It's Dr. Cate Milton, " came the low voice from the window.

"The South Pole Psychiatrist?" He didn't see that one coming. "Whoa…"

"Didn't see that one coming, huh?" he repeated his thoughts with a little self-deprecating laugh.

"No, but then again, she was 9000 miles away 6 months ago, " Wilson said.

"Not anymore, " he said.

"And you're sleeping with her?"

House grimaced slightly and ran a thumb over his brow in a way that usually meant that whatever he said next was going to be a half-truth. "Yes, we are technically _sleeping_ together…"

"You're intimate with her, " he pressed wondering where the hell this was going.

"Yeah, sort of…"

"You're sleeping together but… you're… _not_ having sex with her?!" He let out a befuddled grunt. "This just gets better and better."

"It's complicated, " he defended lamely.

"Well obviously, " he chided.

"We're…dating. She's my… girlfriend. We're in a…relationship." He said the word 'relationship' like the earth might spontaneously open up and swallow him whole for such unadulterated blasphemy.

"And yet, you felt the need to keep something as important as your father's death from her?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, well…"

"That's not good, House, " he said.

"I know that now, " he griped back at him.

Wilson stared incredulously at his ex-friend and was amazed by the change in him. He was the same self-absorbed pain in the ass but at the same time he was also distinctly different. It was weird. He just couldn't get next to this. He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"You're really not having sex with her?" _That was definitely weird._

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate marched straight into Cuddy's office and came full stop in front of her desk slamming her hands down furiously onto the polished surface. She ignored the sting from the force allowing it to fuel her ire.

"You drugged him?"

Cuddy blinked at her startled. She stared at her for a long moment and then suddenly regained her composure. "It was a necessary precaution."

Cate's eyes flared. "Necessary precaution? You tranq'ed him like a grizzly bear."

Cuddy placed her hands on her desk and rose from her chair. "Not a grizzly bear – a crocodile who'd no sooner eat my hand off before he'd let me lead him around on a leash. I did it for his own good."

"You drugged a drug addict. You could have killed him. You had no idea how much Vicodin he'd taken already. It was highly irresponsible and most certainly unethical, " she reared.

"I know what I'm doing. He needed to go to that funeral, " Cuddy defended as if she had every authority in the world and knew what was the best for him.

"What he needs is to be able to trust people, not to be stabbed in the back while he's not paying attention, " she fought back.

Cuddy rolled her eyes at her in exasperation. "You of all people should know that as his psychiatrist he avoids personal responsibility like a fat kid running on a treadmill."

Cate bristled and leaned back crossing her arms defensively. "Lisa, I'm not here as his doctor."

Cuddy flippantly waved a hand in the air. "Ok, whatever he's calling it…"

Cate lifted her chin firmly. "I'm here as his girlfriend."

"What?" she shrieked. She burst out with a laugh, then choked on it and her face fell slack as her eyes went wide as saucers. "You're serious?"

"As a fat kid with cake, " she confirmed derisively reusing her metaphor.

Cuddy's face contorted into appalled outrage. "He needs serious psychiatric counseling and heavy medication not a good schtupping! Now who's being irresponsible and unethical?"

Cate had the grace to look ashamed as the hospital administrator stared at her in disbelief. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders at Cuddy by way of an apology, though she really had nothing to apologize for. She was never technically his doctor. And it was by all rights, none of her business.

Cuddy shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose between her eyes. "I would have thought that you of all people would be immune to him."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I'm a sucker for those dreamy blue eyes, " she said mirthlessly.

Cuddy tossed her a sarcastic tip of the head. "Yeah, welcome to the club."

Cuddy came around to the front and leaned against the edge of her desk crossing her arms. She gestured for Cate to sit in one of the chairs. Tired and still furious, she did so but with a loud sigh to release some of her stress.

She bit on the edge of her thumbnail staring absently at the plant on the desk. "He didn't tell me his father died."

Cuddy's face softened. "This shouldn't surprise you."

"It doesn't. I'm just – angry." She looked up at Cuddy and was given a look of empathy. The woman had to have known how frustrating this was. "I'm angry on so many levels. I'm mad at him for not telling me. I'm mad at you for drugging him. I'm seriously mad at Wilson for coming back now when he's been doing fine on his own without him. I'm furious that it had to be orchestrated like a coup. I could have gotten him to go without having to tranquilize him like a dog."

"Cate, this is how it is with House. If you're going to be with him, you'd better get used to it."

Cate shook off her comment. She didn't want to hear about the twisted rationalizations they used to explain their dealings with each other. It was all sick. And they were all puppets in this psychotic little game.

"He'll be fine once he's down there and does what he needs to do for his mother, " Cuddy told her. "I'm sure Wilson has it all under control."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

He was going to kill him. He was going to murder him in cold blood and drag his lifeless, dead body behind his Volvo to his father's funeral where he was going to burying him in the cold hard ground and piss on his grave. As soon as he could get these hand cuffs off, that was what he was going to do.

"_I took care of it" he said. "I got a lawyer, " he said_. Yeah, right and he was the stupid asshole who believed him. Again. And now he was arrested sitting at the police station handcuffed to a bench and all that smug mother-fucker could do while it unfolded in front of him was sit in the car and talk about steam rollers to the Mmmmbop team? God, he had wished that the sheriff would take him out back and rectally violate him with his stupid cane. He deserved it. House had fucked up his life again. Again! The entire foundation of their friendship was based on House's amusement. Well, he wasn't laughing.


	28. Chapter 28: Jail Break

Sessions 28: Jail Break

House rested back against his cot with his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling of the small little jail cell. As far as jail cells went it was pleasant one. A little reminiscent of the Andy Griffith show but hey, he'd seen the inside of far worse. He listened to Wilson flip over restlessly for the fourth time in as many minutes on the lumpy metal cot across the cell from him. He huffed and he puffed. He might actually blow the walls down. House held in a smirk knowing that if the disgruntled oncologist caught him having fun with this he might actually come over here and strangle the life out of him with his bare hands. He was pissed. He didn't blame him, it was after all his fault. He'd smashed his cane to the gas pedal so the cop in front of them would pull them over for speeding. It was a magical stroke of good luck that the cop had found the outstanding warrant from Louisiana. They would definitely miss the funeral now having spent the night in jail. First SARS and now this. This was good shit, you can't make this stuff up.

Wilson huffed again. "You couldn't leave it alone, could you?"

"I told you the struggle to resist ones capture is never pointless, " he said peering at him from the corner of his eye.

"You just had to push it, " he seethed.

"It was a spur of the moment decision, " he said off handedly. It was the truth. The situation presented itself and he seized the opportunity. "I didn't know you were a fugitive from the law."

"I wouldn't be a fugitive if you had taken care of the whole thing like you said you did, " he accused. "I had a cavity search, you asshole. Do you know how humiliating that is? It's not like having your prostate checked."

Well, that's amusing. "Nope. Haven't had the pleasure, although there was this one hooker…"

"Fuck you House, " he hurled at him.

"No need to get testy. So you had your rectum tickled… That's why you got to carry the drugs on the outside in a prescription bottle."

He heard keys jingling up the tiny hallway as one of the cops approached their cell. "Up and Adam boys, " the deputy said gesturing for them to come to the door. House slowly rose from the cot. His leg was aching and he needed his Vicodin. But that had been confiscated along with his cell phone and Wilson's car when they were detained. He limped heavily to the cell door and stuck his hand through the little tray slot so the deputy could handcuff him before letting him out. Wilson stared in disbelief at his comfort with the procedures of a night in jail. He shook his head in disapproval and taking the cue to do the same thing. The deputy unlocked the cell door and escorted them to a little sofa bench in front of the sheriff's desk.

House slumped in the seat to afford his leg a little more comfort. His one hand was cuffed to the arm rest so he rubbed his angry thigh with the other. Wilson sat shoulder to shoulder to him cuffed to the opposite arm rest. Wilson shoved at him irritated when his arm bumped his because of their proximity.

"What, I haven't had Vicodin in over eight hours, " he complained in his defense.

"_Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"_

His phone must have been sitting on the sheriff's desk. He wondered what the team was calling for now. It was morning and he hadn't been able to get the idea of a steamroller smoothing out pothole from his mind.

"Can I have some of my Vicodin, the accommodations here leave a lot to be desired, " he called to the sheriff who was perusing a file on his desk.

"No, not until I can determine what to do with you two, " he said.

"I'm a cripple, this goes against the American's with Drugs and Disabilities Act, " he said.

"It's America with Disabilities act; only one 'D', " the cop said with an amused smirk.

"_Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"_

Second call. Hmm. Something interesting must be going on.

Wilson rolled his eyes. He was getting fidgety and it was annoying him.

"_Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"_

"I need that phone call…I'm a doctor and when someone tries to call you three times its code for pick up the damn phone before someone dies."

"I'm sure there are other smart doctors."

"You'd be surprised." The sheriff didn't seem to agree. He put the phone in his desk drawer. He could hear he bottle rattle and his scared little Vicodin calling his name from the desk. They needed him.

"You told me you'd taken care of this, " Wilson said. He was back on that again.

"I did."

"First words you ever said to me, " he reminisced.

"I took care of it. You must've screwed up some how…" he wasn't going to be blamed for the warrant. That was solely Wilson's domain.

"Sir, not to hurry you but we need to be at a funeral in.."

The sheriff stood and looked really imposing. "Nobody's going anywhere or taking anyone's calls," he said pointedly at him, " 'til I hear back from Louisiana."

Wilson squirmed. "It's a really old warrant. Isn't there a statute of limitation on this kind of thing?"

"It's suspended when you flee the state, " he said. Noob…

"I didn't flee the state. I left the state because… I don't live in the state." His voice was getting squeaky. He was starting to get nervous. "The charges were just so minor…"

The cop picked up a paper from the file. "Vandalism; destruction of property. Assault?

Wilson started to sweat. It wasn't pretty. "There's a simple explanation, there was a medical convention in New Orleans…"

The cop put on his 'I've heard it all before' face. "You don't need to explain to me."

Wilson couldn't take the hint. "I was fresh out of med school…" The sheriff looked bored and went to get a cup of coffee. He could have used some himself, but the guy didn't look like he was in the sharing mood.

"You heard the man, Wilson, you don't have to explain."

Wilson's temper flared. "I'm not gong to sit here wasting time just so you can avoid your fathers funeral, " he shouted at him drawing attention from the cop who turned to stare at him.

"He's _my_ father. I have the right to avoid his funeral, " he said defending himself to the sheriff now.

"Not if your mothers alive you don't." He came around the front of the desk and perched on the edge like an albatross. "Ok, explain." Apparently Barney Fife on steroids also had an opinion about what he needed to do just like everyone else in his life.

"I was at the hotel the bar trying to unwind. There was this guy who kept playing Billy Joel's _Leave a Tender Moment Alone_ on the juke box."

"_Leave a Tender Moment_ is a good song, " the cop said.

House nodded remembering fondly where this was going. "It's a great song; he was outta line."

"Not as good as _Scenes from an Italian Restaurant_… or…" True, the man knew his Billy Joel… of course there was his new favorite, _She's Gotta Way_…

Wilson held hand up to continue "… So I asked the man to stop politely."

"Yeah, you yelled politely, " he said helping the story along.

"I was polite the first couple of times but courtesy made no impression on the ass so, I threw a bottle into the mirror which… successfully conveyed my message."

"And smashed ten foot antique mirror and set an example to the two other patrons who threw shot glasses." _Ah good times…._

"I had nothing to do with that fight. The assault charge was totally bogus and… I paid for the mirror."

The cop smiled. "I think I have the picture. I assume you're the guy who was playing the song…" he asked him with a knowing smile.

"Nope. I was the guy who bailed him out."

"That's how we met; I was in jail." Wilson shook his head depressed.

"This guy was a total stranger to you and you bailed him out?"

House shrugged indifferently. It had noting to do with kindness. At all. "It was a boring medical convention, I needed to have someone to drink with."

"And there's the foundation of our entire friendship..If you hadn't be bored one weekend it wouldn't even exist."

House looked at Wilson. His words hurt. "Hey, there were 3000 people at that convention you were the one I thought wasn't boring; that has to day something."

"It also says something to me that you lied to me about getting the charges dropped…"

_Oh here we go again…_ "I got a lawyer; he cut a deal, you didn't call the guy. You have to show up at the arraignment everybody knows that…"

Wilson snorted. "Everybody with your misdemeanor experience."

The cop came over and uncuffed Wilson. House was confused. "You can go, " he said and moved over to unhandcuff him.

"What?!" House exclaimed "He's a fugitive from justice. That whole story was lies. He stabbed a man."

The cop laughed. "Louisiana doesn't want to pay to get you back."

The cop took off his cuffs and handed him his Vicodin and cell phone. "Forget Louisiana, he was driving recklessly through your comatose village… " House pleaded with him. He never thought he'd actually ask to remain under arrest. "What, do they put lead in the jelly donuts here?" Maybe if he antagonized him…

The cop leaned down and got in his face. "Stop being such an ingrate and go pay your respects to you father."

This guy could not be instigated. _Fuck._ His luck just ran out. He was going to this damn funeral.


	29. Chapter 29: Lamber Funeral Home

Sessions 29: Lambert Funeral Home

"Good heavens we haven't missed it after all it's like the end of A Christmas Carol, " Wilson's voice sing-songed annoyingly as they walked through the lobby of the Lambert Funeral Home. Why couldn't he have just stabbed somebody so they would have to be held without bail? Dismissed warrant, ha! He'd never gotten that lucky. House looked up to see his mother come out of the room where his father's casket was. She reached her arms out to him and smiled lovingly as she grabbed his face between her warm hands. He remembered how her hands were always warm and soft. She hugged him tightly to her and he inhaled the familiar scent of her perfume.

"I'm so glad you're here. It's a load off of my mind just to see you, " she said pulling back to look at him. She let go of him and turned to Wilson. "Thank you, James." The gratitude on her face was palpable.

"Mom how could you delay the funeral, " he said with his voice coming out more like a little boy's than he wanted to.

She busied her hands with fixing his collar and tie. "Honey, your dad is dead; he's not going to care, " she said matter-of-factly. She was so calm, so collected. "Do you know what you're going to say?"

He could feel the need to run like the wind pull at him and he tapped his cane dismissively on the floor, cursing his leg. "I don't know," he stammered. "Just let the minister or one of his buddies from the corps…

"You're talking. I don't care that you didn't like him; he was your father and he loved you." His mother fixed him with a reprimanding look. She meant business. "The war is over Greg; please do this for me. "

House looked at Wilson who was busy looking sheepishly skeptical about having brought him now. _Traitor_.

"Stop looking so worried, " she said to Wilson. "I know he's gonna make me proud."

And there it was: the final motherly ace in the hole. The make me proud card. She wielded it like a warrior queen. He looked at Wilson who then grimaced back at him.

"I'm sure you know him better than I do…" Wilson said lamely.

The minster called for everyone to enter the viewing area. He followed his mother into the row of chairs at the front after Wilson gave him an encouraging shove with his fist to his kidney. _Fucker, that actually hurt_.

He tuned out the minister's dry irrelevant speech and tugged at the ugly tie that Wilson forced him to put on. It had been stashed with the space blanket and nail clippers in his trunk of the Volvo next to a bag with some toiletries that they used to clean up with after their brief night in jail. He could feel his palms beginning to sweat and the bile rising to his throat at the thought of having to speak in public, not to mention deliver some form of false good word for his non-father.

He leaned over and whispered to Wilson. "I am not talking. We were strangers; we shared some geography thirty years ago. "

"Right. He had no influence on you at all, " Wilson whispered vehemently back "… the father who was compulsive about punctuality."

"His issue," he retorted." Which I deliberately made not my issue."

"Thereby _making_ it your issue by compulsively showing up four hours late… ignoring discipline… ignoring rules."

House looked around and spied his real father. "Oh god he's here."

"Who's here?" Wilson looked back over his shoulder to discern whom he'd caught view of. "The one you're pretending is your father, nice pick he looks like Sean Connery." He clucked his tongue at him like a mother hen. "So way back, when you were making up this fantasy, did you tell your father "Dad I've chosen not to recognize your existence because I have chosen James Bond as my real dad."?"

House lowered his eyes and dropped his voice. It sounded so stupid when Wilson said it. "I used different words…"

"What? Hearing your own son hates you so much he's replaced you in his mind. That's gotta suck… how did he take it?

"I already told you, he didn't talk to me for a whole summer."

His mother rose from their seats and gracefully made her way over to the lectern. She smiled out at the gathering of people with a glimmer of tears shining in her eyes. "It means more to me than I can say to have all of you here today. Now our son Gregory would like to say a few words, Greg?" She looked over at him firmly beckoning him with her eyes to do as he was told.

Reluctantly, he rose slowly and limped over to take her spot at the podium. He looked out at the people in the audience. He saw a lot of Marine Corps uniforms, women wearing black dresses holding tissues to blot their running mascara. It angered him, the outpouring of emotion. Did all these people really know his father? Did they really know who he was and what kind of man he used to be? He ventured no, they didn't. If they did, they wouldn't be so sad.

He cleared his throat and gripped the podium. He spoke slowly, methodically. His words were measured for concise impact and meaning. "There are a lot of people here today; including some from the Corps … and I noticed that every one of them is either my father's rank or higher and that doesn't surprise me…Because, if the test of a man is how he treats those he has power over… it was a test my father failed." He looked around at the faces of the people and he had no idea who they were. They had never met him, nor did he care. They were anonymous to him. They meant nothing. "This man you're eager to pay homage to… he was incapable of admitting any point of view but his own. He punished failure and did not accept anything less than…." He paused when his eyes fell on his mother's face. She had glanced at Wilson and there was shadow of doubt there. She was worried. He hung his head regretting immediately that he had disappointed her. He closed his eyes and saw Cate's face in his minds eye. She offered him support and acceptance. She never judged. Would she be disappointed in him now, too?

In that moment, he reconsidered his course of action. He took a deep breath and continued. "He loved doing what he did…he saw his work as some kind of sacred calling; more important than any personal relationship." _Not unlike himself_. _Maybe until now. Until Cate._ "Maybe if he'd been a better father, I'd be a better son… but I am what I am because of him, for better or for worse. I just …I just wish… " He stopped. He tried. Nope; he couldn't. He came up with bupkiss. He couldn't summon a tear.

Turning to avoid the awkwardness of his thespian worthy performance, he moved to the casket and bent to kiss his father one last time on the head. God help him, he was actually going to do it. He inwardly shook his head. Thank God, Cate wasn't here to see this. For this, what he was about to do, she might actually judge. He fingered the cold metal of the nail clipper he'd somehow slipped out of his jacket pocket and reached in plucking off a small chunk of his father's earlobe.

"Put it back."

He stood up straight. "He's not gonna miss it…"

A firm hand latched hold of his shoulder pressing down with force than made his knees almost buckle. "I'm done enabling." The claw hand clutched tightly at his trapezius muscle. "You can't even let them put him in the ground with out it serving your own agenda."

"You really want to do this here; you want to punish me or them?"

Wilson hurriedly escorted him down the aisle into an unoccupied room in the front of the funeral home. House looked around, well, not totally unoccupied. Somebody's Aunt Esther was lying face up in the coffin at the head of the room.

"How can I still feel surprise? You would take even _this_, a moment of real human grief and turn it into a _farce_." He was clenching again, like he always did. His anal retentive side flaring up like a gale force wind.

House nearly burst out laughing. "That's crap! You enjoy what I do. I never had to force you, you like coming along for the ride."

Wilson turned around the room in a dramatic sweep with his arm. "Yes that's why I'm cheering you on right now."

House approached him searching his eyes for the real reason he was so inflamed. He was so tired of his dramatic righteousness. Thus outburst wasn't about him. Wilson was pissed at himself. "This is about you needing to be prepared for the worst….so you become an oncologist, no surprises there; the worst happens all the time…But Amber she was young and healthy; her death came out of nowhere…"

Wilson stalked forward. "Don't bring her into this…" He had touched a nerve. _Yeah, doesn't feel good, does it? Just returning the favor._

"And you weren't ready, " he taunted. "And that makes you angry. The world sucks and you didn't have time to brace yourself…" Now they were getting to the nitty gritty. They needed to hash this out once and for all.

"What happened in there is your show…" He yelled back at him. In all the years they'd known each other, it had been like this. House pushed, Wilson accepted. House needed, Wilson gave. He always had an escape plan, a back up. He wanted to be prepared. But then he lost Amber and everything he'd known fell apart. He'd almost lost House in the process, too.

The truth dawned on him like a church bell. "You're scared to death of loosing anything that matters … so you dump the person who matters the most to you, " House persisted.

"I'm not scared to death, " Wilson protested loudly. "I'm moving forward."

"Because no one can take away from you what you no longer have, " he contended. It was all making sense now, even to him.

"Your father's death is about _you_. Amber's death is about _you_… I can't imagine why somebody wouldn't want to be your friend, " he hollered.

House stalked him. He was on the right track. He smelled blood in the water. "Admit it you're angry and you're scared of loosing me…."

"I'm not scared… I'm not afraid."

"Admit it, admit it, admit it…"

"I've lost people it happens…"

"Admit it, admit it, admit it…"

"What are you five? Stop repeating…."

He taunted him over and over and over again pushing his buttons one by one until Wilson impulsively picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and hurled it through the stained glass window right above Aunt Esther's coffin.

House blinked twice and cocked his head to the side, surprised and amused. "Still not boring…."

Wilson slapped his hands onto his forehead and bent over helping the blood rush to his head.

The funeral director rushed into the room, House's mother in tow, "What the Hell is going on here?"

House pivoted on his cane and did his best to look properly chagrinned.

"Gregory? What on Earth?" his mother intoned coming around the portly man in the black undertaker's suit.

"Would you believe a flaming brick came flying through the window?" he deadpanned.

She narrowed her eyes at him and her face became hard. "Gregory, don't you dare."

Wilson stood upright. "It's my fault."

"I'm calling the police, " the funereal director said angrily.

All three of them stepped forward. "NO!"

Wilson took out his checkbook from his jacket pocket. "I'm prepared to write a check right now to cover the damages, there's no need to get the police involved." A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead.

"He doesn't need another warrant or cavity search, " House added in mock severity. His mother stepped forward and pinched his arm.

"Cut it out," she ordered through gritted teeth. She placed her hands on the burly undertaker's coat sleeve and guided him away from them. "I am so terribly sorry about this. He has been so distraught since the death of his girlfriend, that he was overcome with grief at the mere thought of attending another funeral. I'm sure we can quietly make this go away…"

House stood back and watched her work. This was a side to his mother he hadn't seen since his teen years. She softened and cajoled and orchestrated. She was a Marine Corps officer's wife and a Southern woman. She always took charge and she endured. It was what she always did. He admired and respected that about her.

A few excruciatingly long moments later, she glided effortlessly back over to them and took both of them by the arm. "Write a check for $5000."

"$5000, " Wilson choked. House laughed and then shut up when she glared at him.

"I know _you_ don't have so much as a wallet on you, " she directed her ire at him. "But you _are_ going to pay him back for _half_ of it."

"Half? He's the one…."

"Enough… , " she snapped. "Write the damn check."

Wilson promptly did as ordered. She took the check from him and handed it to the man."There, I believe that should cover any and all concerns regarding this matter." The undertaker was sufficiently satisfied and left the room to organize where in the world to hold dead old Aunt Esther's funeral now.

"Almost fifty-years old and I'm still bailing your ass out of infantile, foolish pranks, " she muttered as she came up to point a finger in his face. That sharp and finely manicured finger that always told him he'd crossed the line. He backed infinitesimally away from it. "You two need to burry the hatchet. It's over. Stop fighting like brothers and get your shit together." She glided out of the room with a backward wave to return to her husband's funeral.

House and Wilson looked at each other in silence. In two point five seconds, they burst out laughing.

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They had traveled most of the day to return to Princeton-Plainsboro. He had discovered that Adopted Chinese girl had been almost murdered by her biological parents at birth. Ain't that a kick in the head, so to speak? And he'd done it with Wilson's help. He was pumped that they were working together. It was like old times. Except he wasn't sure it would last. Things were all a' tangle now. What was reality was not any more; what he had wanted to be true was. He was all kinds of fucked up.

So he sat in his office…drinking.

"I hear your patient's going to be alright…"

"Is that why you're here…a colleague checking up on a patient?"

"Something going on?"

"I'm celebrating... " he announced as if it weren't obvious. He sighed heavily and handed him the results. "My mom hated him too…"

Wilson read the paper. He looked up amazed. "Your DNA test showed no match; that's incredible. At the age of twelve, you actually figured out your father wasn't your birth father. That's what you wanted wasn't it? Why should it depress you?"

"It doesn't depress me… it doesn't make any difference at all …that's what depresses me." He took a sip of bourbon. He couldn't even take pleasure at it burned a trail down to his stomach.

"Well, I guess nobody gets to chose who their parents are. I'm not even sure any more we get to chose who our friends are… " He paced in front of his desk running his hand over the back of his head. He too looked like his world was inside out now. "I spoke with Cuddy … she hasn't filled my position yet."

He knew that was true. She's been waiting for Wilson to come back just as much as he was. "If you're coming back just because you're attracted to the shine of my neediness, I'd be ok with that."

Wilson smiled ruefully. "I'm coming back because you're right…that strange annoying trip we just took was the most fun I've had since Amber died." He looked exhausted and at the same time rejuvenated. Maybe things weren't so bad after all. He was coming back.

"You hungry?" he asked him. He had wanted to get back early to see Cate but it was past midnight and his stomach was starting to complain about the bourbon. She would probably be sleeping now anyway.

Wilson nodded in affirmation. House rose slowly from his chair and recalled his swan dive just two days prior. He chuckled to himself. Cuddy. That crazy bitch was right once in a blue moon. He grabbed his jacket and shut the light.

"Wilson…" he said as a ray of light peaked through the bourbon haze in his head.

"Yeah?"

"My dad's dead."

Wilson paused at the door and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah. My sympathies…"

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They went to eat at a bar they used to frequent near the hospital. House was already half-in the bag from his session in his office before they even arrived. Figuring that he wasn't done drowning his unresolved emotions, Wilson ordered him a bottle of single malt scotch and two glasses. He'd already put out $5000 bucks, what was another $150?

"To parents… they may fuck us up royally, but we can't deny it makes us who we are. Good, bad and the ugly." He raised his glass and House echoed his toast.

"Here, here."

"So what are you going to do now?" Wilson asked.

"Nothing. Move on. Chapter's closed. The war's over." House smiled wistfully and Wilson couldn't help wonder just how much he missed over the last three months. "I have new things to occupy my time with."

"Yeah, I'm glad, " he said to his friend in all sincerity.

It didn't take long after they ate, before Wilson had to pour House into the passenger seat of his Volvo in an ironic punctuation to the past two days. He buckled his seat belt for him and got in on his side.

"Take me to Cate's, " House said groggily as his head lolled back against the headrest. "I can't sleep without her."

"Oh, I don't think that going to be a problem for you tonight."

"Please." His voice was full of a need that was a long time coming.

Wilson sighed. He took House's cell phone out of his side pocket and called her to give her fair warning of their arrival. It was after two in the morning and she had to have been sleeping. She answered her door in her pajamas and robe wearing a sympathetic frown. House reached out for her and he nearly toppled them both over onto the floor. Wilson grabbed at him to steady his towering frame.

"Help me bring him to bed, " she instructed.

"I'm sorry about this, " he said guiltily.

"Don't be, " she told him. "I'm glad he's home."

"Me too, " he replied earnestly. Cate smiled at him and he knew that House was going to be alright.

They were able to get him to the bed and help him out of his pants and jacket settling him under the covers. Wilson noticed Cate grimace as she caught sight of the scar running an angry chasm down the length of what used to be his thigh. It was the first time she was seeing it judging from the reaction on her lovely face. He hadn't ever shown it to her. _Well, that explained a lot._

"I'll lock up, " he said inching his way out of her room beginning to feel like he was intruding.

"Thank you, " she said smiling at him. "For everything."

"Good night, " he bid leaving the room.

Cate sighed and placed her hand along the door frame. She turned to look House lying in the middle of her bed and felt a wave of relief that he was back safe with her. For all their good intentions, she knew they only did what they did because they cared for him deeply. He was special to them and they wanted the best for him whether he was a willing participant or not. And they understood that about him, probably better than she did, though she was learning. She closed the bedroom door and turned the lights out before climbing back into the warm comfort of the bed. House's eyes fluttered open searching for her in the darkened room. "I missed you."

Cate smiled down at him and brushed his hair away form his brow. She kissed him gently on the lips. "I missed you, too."

He touched his hand to her neck and brushed her lips with the edge of his thumb. His eyes were stormy blue in the moonlight. He took a shuddering breath. "I love you."

Cate's heart squeezed in her center of chest. She licked her lips as tears came fast and quick to her eyes. "I love you too." He pulled her tightly into his strong arms. She could hear his heart hammering in the hollow of his chest and a heartrending sigh of relief escape his mouth. His tension abated slowly as he held her body against his, tethered to her, openly accepting her love like a starving man in need of redemption and the promise of better days to come. He was soon fast asleep before she could even think to close her eyes. She wiped at a hot tear that ran down her nose as she cried quietly against the softness of his t-shirt. She kicked herself for being a sentimental fool. Sadly, he wasn't going to remember any of this in the morning.


	30. ACT II Chapter 30: Aftermath

Sessions 30: Aftermath

ACT II

_This essentially begins the next part in my Sessions universe. I toyed with the idea of ending it at the end of the last chapter and then starting a sequel but…then I thought, no. It's really more of an Act II. Things still aren't totally resolved and out in the open. They have many things to work through as far as House's new found issues with his parents and the fact that he actually spoke the big three to her. Plus, things will start to heat up between them as they being to explore the sexual side of their relationship more. I may have to change the rating to M because of dialog, innuendo and some healthy hearty smut so be on the lookout kiddies. Once again I thank each and every one of you who have given me your encouraging words and are really enjoying this story. I am having a spectacular ride and can't wait to get to my keyboard everyday. To bad I actually have a job that gets in the way of my fantasy life. Love and kisses. Enjoy!_

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Cate watched House sleep soundly with his head cradled in the soft volume of pillows on her bed. She had already been up, to yoga and back, showered, changed into pair of faded jeans and a loose sweater and had a double shot soy latte from Starbucks. It was approaching noon and he was still virtually unconscious. The bright sunlight sliced through the gauzy curtains carving out bright squares of light on the wall to wall carpet of her bedroom floor. The sunny day shown in stark contrast to the turmoil etched in the creases of his face. He was exhausted emotionally. She could see it in the color of his skin and in the shallowness of his breathing. Of course, it didn't help that he was sleeping off a bender that was probably well participated in and no doubt much deserved. She was thankful it was the weekend for it at least afforded him some time to recover from the past few days before going back to work. He needed time so badly.

The last she had heard from him, aside from Wilson's call last night, was after the two of them had been released by the sheriff on the dropped warrant for Wilson's arrest. She shook her head and laughed sardonically to herself as she heard Cuddy's words repeat in her head. _"If you're going to be with House, you'd better get used to it."_ Arrested, a warrant, tranquilizing him, all on a way to a funeral. Truer words had never spoken.

Oh, yeah and those other three little words that were uttered in a haze of alcohol induced confidence… they had ricocheted around her head all night long like little ping pong balls in one of those lottery machines for the nightly pick six drawing. She'd nearly severed her spinal cord in the head standing pose at class this morning because couldn't focus worth shit. Damn him.

It was the truth. Her dad was right. Damn him too and his perceptive, detective eyes. She _was_ in love with him. She said it back to him. And then she cried about it. She had tried to deny it, to rationalize it. But she couldn't. She didn't want to anymore. It was more exhausting to lie to herself that she was trying to be careful than it was to just deal with the fact that she had lost her heart to him. Of course in the beginning, she was scared that he wasn't capable of feeling the same for her, but apparently that wasn't the case. If he never said it again, she supposed that would be ok with her. The fact that he had pushed her away and then let her back in again was sign enough. The fact that he had wanted to be here with her instead of alone was huge. She would accept those words uttered one time in a moment of vulnerability as her secret proof.

Propping her head up on her fist, Cate ran her fingers over his brow moving away the messy spikes of hair that stuck out in all directions. He needed a shower, some hedge clippers for his beard and some Listerine to kill that rotting corpse festering inside his mouth. He was a hot mess. And yet, she wouldn't take him any other way. He inadvertently chose that moment to roll his head to the side and breathed his fire breath in her face. Scratch that - she would take him _after_ the Listerine. She gently pushed his head to slump back to the other side of the pillow away from her face. The subtle movement made him stir as he began to came back to the land of the living. She could see his whole body cringe painfully as he woke from his alcoholic coma. He opened his eyes and then immediately closed them groaning and bringing both of his hands up to shield his sensitive eyes from the bright light burning a path up his retinal nerve to bore into his brain.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," she said looking down into his face.

He winced, squinted and then moaned. "Hush…Be very quiet."

She laughed at his misery and closed his mouth with her free hand. "No talking."

"That's the idea, " he said pushing her hand away."You no talking. I hear five of you."

"That's what happens when you drink a fifth of scotch, " she said in her regular voice causing him to grimace against the sound as it assaulted his ears.

"Ahh, loud noises, " he complained and then opened his bloodshot eyes to look around spastically trying to discern his whereabouts.

"You're at my place, " she said.

"Oh, " he looked at her confused for a moment. He moved his feet under the blankets. "Where are my pants?" There was momentary panic in his voice.

"On the chair, " she told him.

"I need my Vicodin, " he said. He attempted to sit up but thought better of it and lay back down.

"Stay, I'll get them, " she said getting off the bed and retrieving the pill bottle from his jeans pocket. She went out to the kitchen to pour him a tall glass of cold water. Ginger cried loudly as she entered the kitchen and swirled her warm fuzzy body around Cate's ankles. "He's in the bedroom. Go see…" The cat looked up at her with big green eyes and took off in the direction of the room. Cate groaned and placed her hands on the edge of the counter and took a deep cleansing yoga breath praying for strength. This was so not fair. She felt like she had the spoilers for the horror movie they were watching and he had no idea when the big scary monster was going to jump out of the closet. Damn him.

Carrying the glass of water and his pills, she came back into the bedroom. Ginger was standing on his chest nose to nose with him happily kneading his pectoral muscles like pizza dough. She smiled at the two of them as she climbed back onto the bed. The fat little cat purred loudly in contentment that her buddy was home. He on the other hand was not nearly as amused to see his other girlfriend as she was him.

"She loves you." _Shit._ She didn't mean to use that word.

He flicked his eyes lazily at her. "Ya think?" The cat licked his chin and he brought his hand to pet her by her ears earning a loving head butt to his mouth. "Yes, you don't care how bad my breath stinks, do you? No, because you can lick your own asshole and don't care how bad it tastes, right? Yes, that's right."

She shook her head and held out his Vicodin for him. He maneuvered around his fuzzy girlfriend and dry swallowed the two pills so she wouldn't have to stop her worshiping of him. Secretly deep down, the furry little cat had grown on him though he would never verbally admit that either.

"You really should drink the water because you're dehydrated, " she told him.

"Just put it on the nightstand, I'll have it in a minute, " he said focusing his attention back on rubbing the cat's chin.

"I made an appointment to have her fixed on Monday, " she told him as she sat casually back against the pillows propping herself up on her bent elbow. She tired to be a nonchalant as she could, knowing what she knew. _Play it cool Cate. You know how to do that._

He pouted a sad face at the cat. "Oh no, Mommy's having your uterus taken out, none of the boys are gonna like you anymore, what are you gonna do? We're gonna have to call you Boring Nun Kitty now." The cat nuzzled him purring in answer. "Now we been through this before, I belong to Mom, you guys are gonna have to scratch it out, winner takes all. My money's on you though, she's all bark and no bite" he whispered conspiratorially in her ear. He attempted to move again but just collapsed his weight back on the mattress accepting defeat.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him.

"Like I've been hit by a truck, " he said staring up at the ceiling. He fixed his eyes on the plaster. He was quiet for a long, long time.

Cate waited.

And waited.

She closed her eyes and started to nod off.

And then he spoke. "There's a water spot up there that needs to be fixed."

_What?!_ Confused, she looked up following his finger to where he was pointing. She could barely see it, he was delusional. "I don't see anything."

"What's up there, behind that sheetrock? " he persisted.

"The attic, " she told him benignly.

"It might be condensation build-up, " he speculated, clearly evading.

"I'll tell the landlord, ok, " she said letting a little bit of her irritation slip through.

He rolled his head along the pillow. His eyes pleaded with her. "Can we at least have breakfast before I have to talk?"

She let out a sigh. "You know it's lunchtime, right?"

"Really?"

She nodded.

"Ok, then."

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The hours ticked by like molasses on a cold day in Canada. Cate was going stir crazy. She was bored and anxious and just plain at her wits end with him toady. When he finally was able to stand erect without felling like he was going to hurl, they went to his apartment so he could shower and change. They'd gone to eat a late lunch at the diner which he merely picked at, gone quick food shopping and were now back at his place. She had circulated around him like a satellite all afternoon, trying to keep herself busy and out of his face in hopes that he might engage her in conversation. She had approached him one time to ask him if he wanted anything to drink and he simply held his hand up to shush her after which she promptly turned on her heel and retreated into the kitchen. She had spent the better part of the next two hours cleaning and scrubbing the life of out his cabinets in her frustration.

She hated that about herself. She obsessively cleaned and sanitized when she was frustrated. She got that particular trait from her mother. Her dogged stubbornness, that was a gift from dear old Dad. The two combined together was dangerous. Whenever her parents would have a spat, her mother would scour the kitchen within an inch of its life. He father used to make fun of the fact that he had to paint the cabinets once a year because her mother would wear off the latex. _Thanks ever so much, Mom_. It turned out to be an interesting archeological expedition, however. He had cans and boxed stuff in his cabinets from 1999; probably dating back to the Stacey era. Thank God he never cooked because he could actually die of botchulism if he ate any of that stuff. Food just didn't age well like the five bottles of liquor she found stashed in various places once bought and forgotten amongst the pots and pans he never used.

Satisfied and spent, she peeked around the corner to see what he was doing. He was in the same spot watching a college football game slumped down on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table. It was now close to dinnertime and she had worked up a hunger. She turned slowly and went back into the kitchen to make something to eat. She decided on some simple grilled cheese and soup because she wasn't up for anything more than that and she figured that neither was he. She quietly deposited his by his foot on the coffee table and then took hers over to his desk where she turned on her laptop to work while she ate and listened to her iPod. _Two could play at this game_.

By nine-thirty, she was tired and decided that she was gong to change into her pajamas. She went into his room and opened the drawer she had slowly taken over during the past few weeks. She changed into her soft pj bottoms and matching tank top and slipped on her cashmere robe. She put on a pair of socks and then went back out to the living room. He had put the lights on presumably when he had gotten himself a glass of bourbon while she changed and was now back on the sofa silently flipping through the list of TiVoed shows. She curled up on the opposite arm of the sofa and pulled the blanket down over settling in to watch Thursday and Friday's episodes of _General Hospital_ that he had missed on the account of his road trip to the funeral. She didn't get how he could watch this stuff. She used to watch it high school and college but she lost interest when she lost time to actually keep up with it. After they killed off Brenda so Vanessa Marcil could go off to be a 90210 Babe, it was just too boring.

Having been rudely woken up the previous evening at two in the morning, her eyes were giving out on her by ten-thirty. She sat up and pushed the blanket onto him. He looked at her for the first time in over six hours and sighed.

"I'm going to bed, " she informed him and stood. He grunted in response and she doubled back standing in front of the television. She crossed her arms and fixed him with a firm look. "You have another twenty-four hours to sit and brood or stew or… whatever this _thing_ is that you're doing. And then you're done. You get me?"

He looked back at her. His eyebrows drew together in consternation and he pursed his lips together in a frown. He nodded once accepting her terms.

"Good, " she said with finality and went to bed.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

She felt him come to bed sometime after 1:00AM. She peered at the digital clock through her blurry eyes. He climbed under the covers and wrapped his arm around her waist tucking himself against her back as he pulled her to him effortlessly. She sighed and laced her fingers with his, sleepily accepting his embrace. He nuzzled his nose against the soft spot behind her ear and she could hear him inhale the scent of her hair like he liked to do. She smiled to herself and settled herself back into sleep.

"I meant what I said to you last night, " he whispered to her in a gravely voice. "I do love you."

Cate breath caught in her throat and she squeezed his fingers with hers. She couldn't say anything because she was crying. Again.


	31. Chapter 31: Pancakes

Sessions 31: Pancakes

House popped a cd into his stereo and turned the volume down low enough to be good background but loud enough that he could still hear it in the kitchen. He flicked the light on and surveyed the damage. The countertops, cabinets, glass, metal surfaces and floor all gleamed back at him. He could perform surgery on his butcherblock if he wanted to. She was a cleaner. A force to be reckoned with, that was for sure. He didn't think his kitchen had seen this much attention since… well, ever.

The limped over to the pantry cabinet and hung his cane on the overhead pot rack so he could use both hands to gather a large metal mixing bowl and some frying pans. He placed the bowl on the counter for the time being and put the pans on the stove, turning the burners on. He pulled out the coffee grinds and started a pot before bringing his attention to the main event.

The music filtered into the kitchen and he was moving in rhythm to the soft grove of the familiar strands of one of his favorite bands going way back into his teens. He felt good this morning, better than yesterday for damn sure. He'd been a dick. He had tortured her all day by not talking to her. He wasn't exactly sure why he reused to speak after they got home from the store. He just kind of got stuck in a grove of self-contemplation and the thought of actually have to psychoanalyze the situation made him want to chew his arm off and high-tail it out of there. Except it was his place and he had no where else to go. She was in his lair, not the other way around. She bore it remarkably well though, in retrospect.

It amused him to hear her clinking and clanking, bumping and banging stuff around his kitchen for two hours straight. Just to hear her moving around his place with a vehemence like she belonged there lulled him into an odd sense of comfort and he had closed his eyes to take a much needed nap. He almost cracked when she quietly put out a sandwich and a cup of tomato soup in front of him. How did women know that grilled cheese and tomato soup made the world a better place? He felt like a really big dick then, but she had decided to ignore him by then and buried herself in her laptop so he had narrowly escaped a conversation again. When she finally came to lie down on the sofa in her pajamas and robe, he wondered when she had actually brought them into the apartment. He hadn't seen her carrying a bag, but then again he'd been finding articles of her clothing all mixed in with his for the past few weeks. Her lacy bras mixed in with his boxers in the dryer made him smile. He liked the robe because it draped over her curves and she looked so comfortable and at home, but he kind of missed the fact that she wasn't wearing his clothes anymore. It was stupid and possessive, he knew. But he couldn't help it.

She had nearly undone him when she stalked back to him and issued him his deadline for self-pity. She was adorable and sexy as she delivered her ultimatum and he had to force himself to not laugh at her and drag her to the floor and make love to her right there in front of the fireplace. God, he wanted to do that so badly but he couldn't. There was still so much to be covered, so much to be unearthed between them. He knew she'd finally seen his scar. No thanks to Wilson. That was an unwelcome shock. Why couldn't he have just left his pants on? It wasn't like he hadn't done a drop and run on him like that before. But no, Wilson had to expose him, prematurely pushing him in a direction he wasn't ready to go in. House still wasn't really cognizant of why he wasn't ready to share that with her. He didn't know why he was still so leery about it, she was a doctor after all. She would never show him her repulsion. He knew that, yet it continued to freak him out. It had been fucking scary as hell to tell her that he loved her. But showing her his leg was somehow infinitely harder.

It did feel incredibly good to be able to say that he loved her. He did. He loved her. She was simply…everything. And she cried. Both times. Both times, still adorable…

Cate entered the kitchen in her robe and pajamas with a sleepy smile looking around at his orchestrations. "_Bread_?" she asked curiously.

"No pancakes, " he said ladling out another four onto the hot griddle.

She smiled and slid her hands around his waist from behind kissing his back. "No, I meant the band silly, not the food."

He turned over his shoulder in mock horror. _Blasphemer_. "It's _America_, duh? _Ventura Highway_."

"Sorry, don't know how I could ever get them confused. They sound so incredibly different, " she said sarcastically pulling back away from him

"We're going to have to work on your musical repertoire if your going to continue hanging around here, " he said pointing at her with the spatula.

She said leaned against the butcherblock and wrapped her arms around her watching him. "I haven't actually heard _America_ since my parents used to listen to them in the basement during fondu parities."

"Now that's just mean ," he said. He wasn't that old. Was he?

She giggled. "You're only ten yeas older than me, relax. I was teasing."

"Yeah, well, I was smoking pot and playing doctor with anything who'd say hello while you were still jumping rope and playing with dolls, " he said. "If you think about it that way it's a little creepy."

"Only if I was the one you were getting high and playing doctor with then, " she said. "Now, it just sounds like a good time."

He turned and smiled.

"_You're the Dancing Queen, only seventeen…"_

His cell phone rang from the charger on the opposite counter. Wilson. Ah, things were coming back into balance…

He limped over to pick it up and tapped her hand away from the plate of bacon. "No touch." Properly reprimanded, she held her hands up and backed away with a smile.

"Ok boss, " she said with a giggle.

"House's house of pancakes, would you like to place an order, " he said flipping the cell phone open and placing it on the counter in speaker mode.

"Uh yeah… unless I'm coming over to cook them, I don't think so, " Wilson's voice came out over the speaker.

"He's actually cooking, " Cate said with a laugh in his defense.

"Has the fifth circle of Hell frozen over and I didn't know about it?"

"Nope just making breakfast for the woman I love, " House said coming over to place a kiss on her neck. "Oops, there she goes again, you're going to have to stop crying every time I say it. It's like she gets excited and pees a little each time, " he said directionally into the phone with an amused grin.

"I think I just peed a little, " Wilson said. "What kind of drugs are you on and why haven't you taken them sooner?"

Cate smiled at him and wiped a small tear from her eye folding herself into his arms for a quick hug. "No drugs, other than the normal, " he added. Cate pulled back and busied herself with fixing two mugs of coffee while he finished with the rest of the pancakes and bacon. "So, what can we do for you this morning?"

"Oh, nothing now, " Wilson said. "I was going to ask you guys if you wanted to join me for brunch… with Cuddy."

"What?!" he asked perplexed. "Brunch with Cuddy?"

Wilson let out a nervous sounding little laugh. "Yeah."

"What for?'

"To eat obviously… to catch up, at least that's how she put it, " Wilson explained.

House made a face and looked at Cate who shrugged. "Sorry man. You're on your own. Besides the last time I ate with her, she unhinged her jaw and swallowed that wild boar whole. Ugh, it wasn't pretty." Cate laughed and covered her mouth with her hand rolling her eyes at him.

"Great. Well then, enjoy your morning, " he said sarcastically into the phone.

"Bye Wilson, " Cate said.

"Bye Cate, " he said.

"Don't do it man, " House said. "You'll be scarred for life."

"Bye, House."

Wilson ended the call and House shook his head turning off the burners. "Poor bastard. He doesn't know what he's in for."

Cate handed him a mug of coffee and he sipped it watching her. Thank God she could make good coffee. Because bad coffee was a deal breaker.

"So you were holding out on me this whole time? You have mad skills in the kitchen?" she demanded lightly.

"I never said I couldn't cook, I said I didn't cook, " he clarified.

"Just breakfast or does it venture into other realms too, " she asked curiously.

"Ah, ah…" he wagged a finger at her. "These are little tidbits that I only bring out when necessary, like when I need to say 'I'm sorry for being an asshole all day yesterday'."

She laughed and hugged him. "You're forgiven." She squeezed him tightly and then pulled away. "But I hope you have a huge culinary repertoire, because something tells me this won't be the last time."

"Umm, do I still get my twenty-four hour reprieve?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It was 10:29PM. In exactly one minute his time was up. His twenty-four hour expiration date was done. House breathed a resigned sigh and racked his brain for something to say. He looked at her lying on the sofa next to him just like she had last night, only they were at her place tonight because of Sexy Kitty's early appointment in the morning. Tonight she was reading a book while he watched random TV programs to keep his mind occupied. He was distractedly rubbing his hand along the back of her calf in the loose pant leg of her pajama bottoms. Her skin was a soft and smooth and entirely too diverting.

He knew what he was supposed to talk about. It'd been the one thing that had consumed him since this whole sordid weekend started with the phone call from his mother. It stared at him from the recesses of his mind taunting him, stalking him and burrowing its way into him. It was the answer to everything yet, without specifics it answered nothing. And intangible gray areas did nothing for him.

"My mother had an affair, " he stated matter-of-factly, coldly.

Cate looked up at him over the edge of her book. She lifted her head to check his sincerity in talking and then closed her book slowly and placed it on the coffee table. She sat up and pulled her robe around her tightly, folding her arms against the chill from changing positions. She looked surprised but watched him intently. "Really? When?"

"Before I was born, " he told her. "It turns out my father was not my real father."

She took in a breath absorbing his words. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Your mother told you?" she asked with an air of astonishment.

"No. I did a DNA test."

She tilted her head, concerned. "How?"

He looked down and away from her searching eyes and swallowed. "That part's not relevant to the story."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh? It probably is considering you won't look at me." She touched her hand to his arm and then did the unspeakable. She took the remote out of his hand and clicked off the television. "What did you do?" There was a gravity to her voice that told him that she was onto his evasive tactics already and she was not playing.

He brought his eyes up forcing himself to look at her. She was rapidly becoming more and more like his mother, the human polygraph; he was incapable of lying to her. He shifted a bit in his seat and instinctively fingered the amber pill bottle in the front pocket of his jeans. He took it out and uncapped the bottle pulling out two. He looked at the two pills in his hand and paused for a second before tossing them back into his mouth. He bit down to taste the familiar bitterness of his sustenance before swallowing the chalkiness down into his throat.

"It's what lead to Wilson throwing a bottle of Jack Daniel's through a stained glass window, " he said circumspectly.

Her eyes got big and her brow furrowed. "Was this before or after you two were arrested, " she asked tempering her patience.

He smoothed his tongue over his teeth pushing the remaining bitterness of the Vicodin around his mouth. "After, but the arrest was because of an antique mirror in New Orleans fifteen years ago and I wasn't technically arrested, more detained. Wilson on the other hand, was the one with the warrant…" he went on.

"Greg, " she warned running a hand through her hair to the back of her neck trying to maintain a hold on her patience. He was deflecting and she knew it. "_What_ did you do?"

"I might have pushed his buttons a little too far, " he admitted.

"_What_ did you _do_ to make him so angry?" Her words were measured, even and heavy with persistence. She wasn't letting go of it.

"I… I… " his confidence stammered and then he pushed it all out in one breath. "I took a sample of my non-father's DNA."

"You what? How? He's dead."

"I clipped off a tiny piece his ear."

She covered her mouth with both hands and gasped. "Oh God Greg! You took a piece of your dead father's corpse? From his coffin?! In front of everyone?!!" Her voice had escalated to this astounded screeching quality that he never wanted to hear come out of her mouth again. Yep. He had been right. For _this_, she would judge. He closed his eyes.

"I had to know for sure." It was his only defense. It would never end for him if he didn't know.

She took a deep breath and rubbed her hands over her face. She came up and fixed her face back to her practiced clinical, non-attachment face. "You know that the extent to which you'll go to satisfy your curiosity is certifiably insane, right?"

He grabbed her foot and rolled his head against the back of the couch. "You're talking dirty now…"

"No. Greg. I'm not even close to kidding." He pursed his lips into a frown. Yeah, she wasn't seeing the humor in any of it.

He sat for a minute and ran his thumb over the instep of her foot contemplatively. "I couldn't put him in the ground with out knowing."

She watched him for a bit quietly wrestling with the gravity of all of what he had just told her. He felt at least a little bolstered by the fact that she was still on the sofa and didn't bolt from the room ranting in astonishment about his selfish narcissism and his need to solve puzzles. No, he did give her credit for that. She tilted her head at him. "And now that you know?" she asked quietly.

He glanced at her and shrugged. "It doesn't mean a shit bit of difference." That was the crux of it. He knew. He had his answer. And it didn't matter. And that felt empty.

"What did you expect would come from knowing?" she asked him.

He shrugged and shook his head. He wasn't sure exactly. "I don't know, I guess vindication."

"For what?" she pursued curiously.

"Vindication for all the things he'd said or done to me over the years. To know that there was reason behind it. That it wasn't all my fault."

She narrowed her eyes at him with a dawning of realization. In all their conversations in the beginning, he had never actually told her about the abuse. He'd alluded to it but gave nothing definitive. But, she was trained professional. He could see she was already putting the pieces together in her mind.

"Oh, Greg, " she sadly. There was no pity. Just understanding. "How long?"

He looked down at his hands. "Until I could hit back."

His body felt numb as he remained slumped against the back of the sofa cushion, his Vicodin aptly doing their job to control the raging demons inside of him. He took solace in that comfort. "I always hated him. I never understood why he hated me so much. My mother says he loved me but… I guess maybe he knew that I wasn't his." He snorted derisively. "Everything I did was a slap in the face to him. Nothing I ever did was good enough. Everything was do it better, be better. Push further, push harder. Failure was not an option. And when I failed, I was punished… when I disagreed, I was punished harder."

Her face softened impassively accepting his words. He knew that none of what he was telling her was new to her or any kind of shocking revelation. She had seen the worst kinds of abuse, he was sure. He had, too. But his personal experiences still cut like a knife and it had shaped his every move throughout his entire life. And that she had to know, too. He let out a heavy breath and held onto her foot.

She titled her head at him searching his face for some kind of response. "Does knowing the answer help you feel vindicated, now?"

He sighed. "No."

"It doesn't erase or justify what happened, does it?"

"No."

"And it doesn't change who you are or who you've become because of it."

"No it doesn't." He let out a sigh. She was right. The knowing changed nothing. "It doesn't change anything. It actually only opens up more questions."

She nodded. "I would think so."

"Why would my mother have an affair? Did she hate him too? And why would she stay with him for fifty years? Why would she let him do that to me?"

She shook her head. "Only she knows that for sure. Only she can tell you that."

He sighed. "I know. But, she won't."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because she kept this lie for fifty years. And now she thinks its' over, " he said.

"What do you mean?"

He shook his head remembering as his mother so matter-of-factly, fixed his collar and told him that he was going to speak whether he wanted to or not. "She told me at the funeral that the war was over and essentially to let it go."

She shook her head with a knowing smile. "Without knowing her or any details, it fits the pattern. She's a fixer. She smoothes over every thing to make it all ok."

"Yeah, she's been like that my while life." He shook his head thinking about his mother. Her stoic resolve. Her need to endure. She had even done it that very weekend with the window. Cate was right and she had never even seen her in action. He used to think it was because his mom wanted to avoid confrontation, but now he didn't know what it was.

"The question now is do you want to let it go?" she asked him.

He looked at her confused. Of course he did, that was the whole point of this. "Yeah, I want to let it go. It sucks having to think about it and talk about it. I'm glad he's dead. Now I don't ever have to deal with him again."

She smiled at him in her knowing way. "Ok, let's just say that you'll be able to do that, just close the book and wash your hands of him. He's gone, it's done. But what about our mother? You have to deal with her still."

He shrugged. "I love my mother."

"Of course you do. But Greg, it is possible love your mother _and_ still be angry with her. You just said she lied to you for fifty years. You think that's not going to sit inside there and fester?" She tapped his forehead illustrating her point. "Wrapping itself around you until it shreds you form the inside out. Your incessant need for answers is gong to rear its ugly head and you will stop at nothing to find them. Just like it did when you took a piece of your father's corpse." He rolled his eyes. Of course, she couldn't let that go.

"It sounds so absurd when you say it, " he told her.

"Greg, it is absurd." He couldn't help himself. He had to laugh a little.

She sat for a bit letting the silence hang between them. She ran her fingers lightly up and down his forearm. He let out a cleansing breath. He felt oddly free of it. The talking part didn't hurt. He hadn't tried to run. He didn't even lash out at her. He had resisted the urge to flee and ignored the glaring self-destruct button that he could have pushed so many times. He was rooted where he sat holding onto her foot as his grounding connection to her. He was amazed. He had survived unscathed.

He breathed in a deep breath and brought his eyebrows together in a contemplative frown. "Why am I so calm? Why was that so easy to just talk about?"

She smiled at him and placed her hand on his chest. "The big 5: Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression and Acceptance. You've already been through the _denial_, that was when you completely _forgot_ to tell me about everything, and then had to be drugged and forced to go to the funeral, " she said with a little pointed glance letting him know that she was still not totally over that. "The _anger_ and the _bargaining_ was everything you did to poor Wilson to not go and the _depression_ was that _thing_ you did yesterday. You may already be transitioning into acceptance."

"It seems a little fast, even for me, " he said.

She shrugged. "Oh, it's not done."

"What, why?"

"You still have to deal with your mother, " she said.

"Nah," he denied.

"Yah, you do, " she affirmed.

"I bet you…"

She laughed. "No. I'm not going to bet you about this. It's going to happen…"

To get her to shut up, he pulled her close to him so that she was leaning awkwardly on his chest. She chuckled inching up onto her knees to right herself. She peered down at him and then threw her leg over his lap as she placed her hands on his shoulders and settled her bottom down onto his good thigh. She straddled him between her legs with a giggle as he persisted with his train of thought that she so rudely interrupted. "Yes, I bet you a hundred bucks that I won't feel the need to…"

Shaking her head vehemently, she placed her fingers over his lips with a chuckle to silence him. "No! This is a bet you can't win. And you are not going to make a mockery of the practice of clinic psychology and the manifestations of grief by trying to bet me money that you won't do what your certifiable brain is most certainly compelled to do."

He raised his eyebrows at her and laughed at her in response biting at her fingers as he brought his hands to rest at the curve of her hips. His thumbs traced small circles over the soft skin at the waistband of her pants while her velvety eyes flashed at him brightly in their teasing fun. With a sly smile, she leaned forward and nuzzled her nose against the side of his neck and then kissed him along the edge of his jaw before coming to tease his mouth open with a tentative flick of her tongue. He breathed her in and let her kiss him slowly at first but with a building passion that little by little set his skin on fire. She asked, he gave. She teased, he taunted in return. His breaths coming in short ragged pants. His hands trailed up her spine under the confines of her robe curving against the delicate planes of her back. She moaned against him moving in a rhythm all her own. And then, in a move of feline divine intervention, Sexy Kitty chose that very moment to jump onto the back of the sofa startling all three of them into panic. Cate gasped as she pulled back as House dodged a retreating back paw off his head as the cat skittered to a stop on the far end of the couch with a hiss.

Cate placed her hand over her thundering heart and he irritatedly flung a pillow at his nemesis sending her skittering once more off in another direction. He let out a frustrated grunt and Cate collapsed against his chest in a fit of laughter. He too started to laugh as he cursed and blessed the stupid little cat for putting a stop to something that was undoubtedly going to fast and furiously in a direction he wasn't ready for. Tonight was not the night to cross the line they'd so perfectly guarded.

"I should go and put her food away. She can't eat after midnight, " Cate said resting her forehead wearily against his collar bone.

"What time is pre-op, " he asked running his hand smoothly against her back.

"Between 7 and 8AM."

He snorted. "That's _all_ you, right?"

"Yes, you don't have to get up that early, " she assured him. "We'll be out before you even crack an eye."

"Excellent." She eased herself off of him like a graceful cat and he watched her go about her ministrations for tomorrow. He grabbed the remote and clicked the TV back on so he could catch the top 10 plays on _Sportcente_r before bed. He looked at the remote in his hand. He laughed. _She had actually taken the remote from his hand… _and_ he let her do it. What in the world was happening to him?_


	32. Chapter 32: Monday in the Clinic

Sessions 32: Monday in the Clinic

House hopped over the divider on his balcony for this first time in over three months. When he landed on the cement patio his thigh screamed in complaint and his knee buckled causing him to catch himself against the solid brick. Fuck, he was getting old. He massaged the irritated extremity back into submission and leaned heavily on his cane as he ambled the short distance to the glass door that led into Wilson's office. Yanking the door open and swept into the office in a dramatic motion standing tall with his chest puffed out and his free hand placed on his hip. Good cover up…

"Good morning Batman, " Wilson said. "Trouble with the Batcave wall over there?"

House glared at him. He let out his breath and collapsed back to his usual slack posture. He had hoped he didn't catch that. "I guess if I'm Batman, that makes you the Boy Wonder Oncologist in tights…" he said in his superhero voice.

"Tights, no thanks. More like the cool leather get-up in the horrible one with George Clooney and Chris what's his name." He paused considering what he'd just said. "Why are we talking about this, " Wilson asked weirdly.

House eyed him oddly. "I don't know, you brought it up."

Wilson shrugged and went back to unpacking the box on his desk. House looked around. The office was in a state of semi-disarray as Wilson was in the process of moving his possessions back in. He spied the small familiar couch by the window and tossed a pile of journals onto the floor.

"I put those there for a reason, " Wilson protested.

"I don't care, " House responded sitting down with a thud and leaning back with his arms draped over the back of the couch. He wiggled and settled with a smile. "It remembers my cheeks."

Wilson snorted. "And the smell that emanates from them…"

"Oh yeah, like you fart rose petals and rainbows…" House said with a smirk.

Wilson laughed and placed a stack of books back on his shelf behind his desk. Their banter was familiar and fun. And they both knew that each was glad to have the other back. "So to what do I owe this annoying visit at…" he looked at his watch, "… 9:30 in the morning?"

House shook his finger at him. "Did you forget set your watch back this weekend? It was daylight savings time."

Wilson shook his head confused. "Ahh, well that makes sense now…" He took off his watch and proceeded to amend the time.

"How was brunch with the shrieking harpy, " House asked nonchalantly.

"Good, " he said noncommittally busying himself with the books again.

"Good?" House searched quizzically. "That's it? Just good?" He mimicked his banal tone.

"It was nice. We ate, we talked, we caught up."

He was being too casual, too flip, too something… House eyed him and then pointed his finger at him screwing his face up into a skeptical frown. "There's more."

Wilson shook his head in denial. "There is nothing more. It was a brunch between two colleagues and friends who haven't seen each other in a while."

"Then why did you call and ask Cate and me to come, " he said unconvinced.

"I was being polite, " Wilson defended belligerently. "And Cuddy asked me too."

House grunted loudly in mirth. "Polite maybe from you, but it's the Cuddy factor that's got me stumped."

"Who knows….maybe she had a morbid curiosity to actually see you behaving like a human being for a change, " he suggested.

House rolled his eyes. Still not convinced there wasn't a more nefarious motive under it all.

"It's a good thing, House. You and Cate…" he said.

"I know…" he said defensively.

"People want to be happy for you, " Wilson said. "I'm happy for you."

House frowned slightly at the uncomfortable territory. "Yeah. Thanks."

Wilson smiled recognizing his discomfort. "So I take it she's not mad anymore, about the whole not telling her about your dad?"

"Nah, " he said. "She knows I'm an ass and can't help myself."

Wilson snorted. "That's the understatement of the year."

"She actually handled the whole DNA thing much better than you did, " he said. "Nothing broke."

"She's new to this whole game, when she's been in it as long as I have, her fuse will get a lot shorter, " he told him.

"Oww, come on, have a little faith, Jimmy…" he said and then placed his hand over his heart. "She loves me just the way I am."

Wilson raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly. "I can't believe you actually said it. To her, I mean. And she actually heard you say it."

House let out a little laugh and scratched the top of his head. "I can't believe I said it. It was scary as shit."

"I bet." He looked at him. "So now what?"

House shrugged. "Now what, what?"

"You told her you love her. In a relationship with two normal people that's a big deal … in a relationship with a normal person and _you_….that's incredibly, monumentally huge."

House tilted his head contemplating that notion. Yeah, it was huge. He knew it. He was there when he said it. "It's all good."

"You haven't sealed the deal yet, " Wilson told him.

"So, " he said. It wasn't as big a deal as he was making it out to be. Really.

"You, the guy who has strippers and prostitutes on speed dial? Sex is not a big deal?"

"Those were just diversions… " he said.

"Uh huh. But this woman is real and you care about her enough to tell her you love her. The sex is important part of the commitment and you haven't even shown her your leg yet, " he said pointedly.

House stared at him. "Yeah, thanks for that. By the way."

"It's a part of you, you have to let her see it, " he told him.

"I will when I'm ready, " he argued.

"What do you think she's going to do? She loves you, she's not going to care, " he told him.

House shrugged. "I know."

"Then what's the big deal?"

He sighed heavily and stood. "It's not a big deal." He was in a good mood. He wasn't going to let him get him all tangled up in his head about this. Things were fine, moving exactly as they wanted them too. He reached out to grab the handle of the door knob and walked out.

"Yeah, limp away Batman, it'll make it go away, " he said sarcastically. "Good talking…."

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"Could you repeat that, " House said quizzically, sure he had heard what she just said but needed a reiteration for clarification purposes.

"I tried to gag myself to throw it up but it wouldn't come out that way either, " the young woman said earnestly.

He bit his tongue and looked at the nurse over his shoulder who had to turn away so she wouldn't bust out laughing. He scrunched up his face wearily. He leaned his cane against the wall, pulled on some exam gloves and wheeled himself closer to the exam table where the girl was laying on her back with her legs up. Why, why, why did he have to endure this torture in the world of the banally stupid? "Are you sure that you attend this college right here?"

"Yes, why?"

He shook his head before clicking on the exam light and bending it to the position in front of the college sophomore's vagina.

"Because it requires some pretty high test scores to get in, " he said off handedly. "But I suppose if they're willing to steal your money… good for the university; bad for the world when you actually graduate with a degree."

The nurse handed him the speculum and the forceps making a face that told him she was right there with him on this one.

"I don't get what you mean, " the young woman said taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"Yeah, don't worry about it, " he said and fished out a broken condom from her uterus and placed it in the metal dish the nurse held. He was about to flick off the light but something caught his eye. He blinked and cleared his vision and looked again. "Did you lose anything else in there? Flashlights, hat, gloves, wedding ring?"

"Huh?" she said and sort of half sat up to look at him over the privacy draping.

"Lay back down, " he snapped. He used the forceps and fished out a size 13 wedding ring and held it for her see. "Somebody missing this little trinket?"

"Oh, my God, I'm so gonna fail that class now."

"Like I said, stealing money… "

And that was just the first patient of the day. Mondays in the clinic were a buttload of fun…

He looked at the chart. Seventy-five year old female, presenting with upper respiratory congestion, fatigue and high blood pressure.

"How long have you been having trouble breathing?"

"Reading? I read just fine. I can't breathe."

He sighed. "HOW LONG? TROUBLE BREATHING?"

"Oh, few days…

He placed his stethoscope in his ears and then rested it on her chest for a listen. "Big breaths…"

"Yes, they used to be… Myron used to think so too, " she said with a wink.

"No. " He snapped his mouth shut and closed his eyes for patience. "TAKE DEEP BREATHS." The nurse grinned in the corner. _Why, why, why….._ He took his stethoscope out of his ears. "YOU HAVE FLUID IN YOUR LUNGS. YOU NEED TO BE ADMITTED FOR TESTS."

"Oh dear, " she said worriedly.

"How LONG since you have been BEDRIDDEN?" he asked and then immediately regretted it.

She blushed and then placed her hand on his coat sleeve. "Why it's been twenty years, not since Myron passed away? Do you think that's why?"

"NOPE. YOU HAVE PNEUMONIA."

"If you put me in the hospital, I wonder, if you came up to my room and spent the night with me, do you think it would help me recover?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe, " he said. "But I don't think MEDICARE will cover it."

"Oh, that's a shame, " she said. What is it with the old ladies and him? He smiled a little embarrassed smile and then made a snarky face at the nurse who was shaking her head.

Three flu shots, two peptic ulcers, a never-ending, gob-stopper in the nose and a puking kid later, House was ready to hang himself. He was about to sign out when three cheerleaders in uniforms bounced up to him in a flurry of black and orange ribbons. "Excuse me are you the doctor?"

"Depends, " he said looking at the redheaded one curiously.

"We need to see someone like right away, " the perky Asian cheerleader explained. "We have a game in an hour and Chelsea is having like these horrible pains in the front of her legs." The other girls gathered around circling him with their doleful teenage eyes to punctuate the severity of their plight. "Our trainer had to go with the basketball players, like why, I don't know… but we have this really, really, big stunt we need to do …and.. Miss Danielle said…"

He held his hand up hearing enough. Teenage. Cheerleaders. Ribbons and short skirts. He needn't hear more. "I'm Dr. House. Please, step in to my office." He opened the door to exam room two and gestured them in.

A disgruntled man stood up and shouted to him from the chairs. "Hey! That's not fair; I've been waiting here for two hours."

"Life threatening shin splints." He explained with a thumb over his shoulder.

"That's not life threatening."

"Newsflash, neither is a COLD! Get a decongestant and go to BED."

He closed the door behind him and beamed a smile at his perky little cheerleaders. "So, show me where it hurts."

Fifteen minutes and five definitive, diagnostic demonstrations of "Move it Move It, Shake that Booty" later, House's mood had unquestionably improved. Visions of nubile cheerleaders would frolic through his brain for the rest of the afternoon and maybe even night.

"You have really great eyes, " Amanda told him.

"Yeah, like I bet all the nurses like drool for you, " Chelsea added as he wrapped her shin with an elastic stretch bandage.

The corner of his mouth tugged into a shy smile and he shook his head. "Mmm, drool's not the word."

Kara crossed hers arms impertinently. "Whatever, that one nurse out there was a crank b-yotch and said that you were too busy to see us right away."

"Yeah, most of them are, they don't appreciate me." He told them and held his hand out to indicate the roll of firm medical tape. "Can one of you give me that roll from the counter?" He asked in his best, helpless crippled doctor voice.

"Oh sure, no problem, " Amanda intoned and proceeded to lean from her spot by the exam table across the space to the counter to grab the tape effectively showing the entire length of her smooth tight thigh right up to her orange panties under her really, really short cheer skirt. His head tilted like a Labrador retriever following a ball as it rolled out of reach under the sofa.

"What are you doing?" Cuddy's voice shrieked in his ears like a scratched record.

"I'm working here, " he turned to her. Holding his hands up for her to see. "Basketball season threatening shin splints. Duh?"

All three girls turned their faces to look at her. Hands fisted on hips and arms crossed tightly over black and orange jersey chests. They all flashed attitude as if she were the ugly, nerdy girl who'd unknowingly tried to sit at their lunch table. Cuddy backed up a bit and sneered.

"You couldn't have come in to harass me when old, deaf Mrs. Tittlebaum was propositioning me?" he snarked.

"I have old, deaf Mrs. Tittlebaum's admittance form you need to sign, " she thrust the folder in his face.

He rolled his eyes at the girls apologetically. "I'll just be a minute."

"It's ok, " Kara said.

"We understand, " Chelsea echoed.

"Whatever, " Amanda sassed.

He clicked his pen loudly and made a big show of scribbling out his signature. He thrust the folder at her chest and she narrowed her eyes at him. The girls simpered and Cuddy rolled her eyes as she left the room. "Pig, " she muttered under her breath.

"Is she like your girlfriend," Amanda asked in horror.

House gagged. "God NO! She's my evil nemesis."

"Thank god, " Kara agreed.

"She looks really uptight, " Chelsea stated.

There was a knock at the door and House rolled his eyes at them again. "Working in here."

The door opened a crack. "Sorry, " Cate said poking her head into the room a bit. "I need to ask you something."

His eyes softened and smiled at her. "Sorry… I thought you were Cuddy." He nodded her in with his head as he continued to tape up Chelsea's shins.

The girls' ears piqued with the new entrant. Eyebrows raised they watched with intense, glitter sparking earnest.

"I have to cover in the ER tonight, " Cate said with a grimace.

"_She's _the girlfriend, " came a whisper from the exam table. Heads nodded in approval of dancing ponytails and ribbons.

Crap, that meant she was working late. "Why?" Which meant that he was on his own for dinner again.

"Mickleson's wife is in labor and delivery, " she explained.

"So? She's not gonna be pushing a baby out of that tiny whole for another twenty-four hours, " he said.

"No, she's hyper-tensive, they're going to do a c-section in another hour if she doesn't reach ten centimeters. I have to cover the ER."

He rolled his eyes, his audience all but forgotten. "I care why?"

She smiled at him. "Could you pick up Sexy Kitty from the vet?" _Oh, yeah. That…_

He looked up from his patient's shin. He was met with three pairs of adoring, ogling eyes. Well, if that didn't just clinch it…"Yeah, I can do that."

The girls let out an audible sigh in unison. Cate smirked at him. He felt a blush grace his cheeks and he nodded embarrassed. Why, why, why…

"I'll text you the information, ok?" she said touching his arm with her hand. He nodded and his lips twitched as he briefly contemplated giving her a kiss goodbye. She made the decision for him however and leaned in for a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks, " she said and was out the door on an unison "Awwww" from the peanut gallery.

"Ok, we're done here." He grabbed his cane and stood from the wheeled stool. "Ice after every work out. Try not too jump too forcefully and wear _real_ shoes when you're just walking around. No high heels, or those stupid little things that look like slippers. Sneakers work."

"Thank you Dr. House."

"Go Tigers, " he said raising his fist in a cheer.

They bounced out.

"She's so beautiful…"

"Pretty hair…"

"Did you see the way she looked at him…"

"And the way he looked at her…"

Mondays were a buttload of fun. He shook his head and signed out. He had a cat to pick up.


	33. Chapter 33: Sexy Kitty's Daddy

Sessions 33: Sexy Kitty's Daddy

House parked his beat-up old car in the handicapped spot outside of the vet's office that Cate had given him the directions for. He hated this car now. It smelled, the seats were lumpy. The windshield was cracked and the radio was only a radio. And he had trouble getting out of it. He hadn't really noticed that until he'd gotten used to getting in and out of Cate's Landrover. All he had to do was lean his butt against the seat and hop in or just slide out because his legs were long enough to touch pavement when he turned past the steering wheel. There was no squatting and having to push himself up or down. Not mention he looked cool in it. Racing green, tan interior. Rugged. Kinda Eddie Bauer…

The woman had good taste and spent money on it, which was a foreign concept to him. She liked comfort and good quality. Every scrap of clothing she put on her body was soft, comfortable and well made. All of her furnishings were the same. Even down to the shampoo she bought, designed to please the senses and provide simple, elegant luxury. The only thing he ever spent real money on was his Steinway piano and his $12,000 guitar he'd gotten himself last year as a consolation gift when his first ducklings left the nest. Music was not something he scrimped on but it also wasn't something he went out of his way to indulge in either. He was beginning to realize that maybe some creature comforts were a necessity for a comfortable existence.

He opened the door with a heavy shove and hauled himself out awkwardly from the bucket seat. He hopped on his left foot until he could reach in for his cane to stabilize himself. Pushing the door shut with a cranking thud he maneuvered over to the entrance. He paused and let out a sigh. The door was elevated on a porch that had two somewhat steep wooden steps or a long round about ramp that led all the way to the right and then back up again to the left. It seemed like a hell of a lot of effort spent to rise up a mere twenty-four inches to the door. He took the stairs. One. Then two. He made it easily to the flat porch but had to step quickly aside to let a pony-sized dog drag its rather comparably large owner out to the car. He was about to enter but had to hold the door for another woman and her miniature fluff ball to exit first. When he was finally inside, he ambled to the counter and a women in puppy dog covered scrubs peered at him expectantly from behind the desk.

"Can I help you sir, " she asked pleasantly.

"Umm, yeah, Greg House. I'm here to pick up… uh…_my cat_." Well that was something he was sure he'd never say in his life.

"You said the last name's House?" she said flipping through her charts searching.

"Uh, no. It's probably under Milton." He said running his thumb absently over his eyebrow.

"Ah here we go, Sexy Kitty Milton…aka Ginger." With a wink, she pulled out a chart and began with her discharge paperwork. "Have a seat, sir. And I'll be right with you."

He nodded, ok, and turned looking around the small waiting room. A woman with a cat in a plastic carrier read a magazine and an older gentleman sat with his white terrier who panted so hard, House thought the dog might burst his trachea. He opted for the seat by the window next to a woman with a leash in her hand. She was apparently waiting to pick-up as well.

"My wife used to make me pick up the damn cats too, " the old guy said from across the way. "Except they didn't have those fancy plastic boxes then. No sir, I used have to put them in my gym bags. One of them tore clean out in car ride back home. Dame thing wedged itself right under the break pedal. I had a fender bender two blocks from the house, I tell you…" he laughed heartily at the memory, so much so that he sent himself in to a coughing fit. House scrunched his face up into a mask of irritated confusion and looked at his watch wondering how long this was actually going to take. He hated waiting rooms. He hated people in waiting rooms. He hated waiting.

A tall burly looking doctor, who could only be described as a grizzly bear with a playschool stethoscope came out to retrieve Cat lady. They went into the back and he peered down the hall to see if someone was coming with … his charge. No luck. He sighed and busied himself with tapping his thumb on the top of his cane.

Another five minutes passed, and a vet assistant came up from a basement door somewhere with a goofy looking Marmaduke dog. The dogs' legs had to be three feet long themselves all akimbo on the tile floor. The poor spastic thing couldn't even stand without sliding let alone make a break for it. It was like the poor bastard was on ice. House felt his pain. Been there, done that. He wanted to get out of there as fast as that dog did. He belonged to the leash lady, though he had no idea how the spindly little woman was going to handle that humongous doofus of a dog.

It was soon time for Chronic Emphysema Man and his panting companion to go in. "Good luck to you son, " he proffered as he passed with his wiggly little dog. He was the last one in the waiting room. Good maybe that meant he was next. No such luck however… another patient entered from the front door. A young guy rushed over to the counter in a panic with a bloody, broken dog in his arms. He heard him tell the admin that he had run over the dog in his driveway. Damn, that's got to suck to run over your own dog. He was visibly shaken trying desperately to maintain his senses as he begged for help.

The counter administrator called for what was essentially a Code and two vet techs emerged out of the back exam rooms to take this poor dog off the guy's hands. The guy placed his bloodied hands on thighs and bent over taking in huge gulping breaths. He was hyperventilating and about turn hypoxic. House rolled his eyes. Great.

"Sit down and put your head between you knees…" he called over to the guy without moving from his chair.

The kid looked at him dragging in gulps of air.

"I said sit down and put your head between your knees, you're going to pass... Never mind…" the kid hit the floor with a thud. "Can we get some oxygen in here?"

The admin who had somehow missed this rushed around from the other side of the counter and then doubled back to get some help. Slowly House got up and moved over to the kid to check his vitals. Pulse rate was slowing, breathing was returning to normal. Someone came with a portable tank of oxygen and a small cone shaped mask. He held it up and inspected it. It would have to do. Placing it over the kid's nose and mouth he turned the canister on and looked at the tech over his shoulder. "Do you guys have a cuff big enough so I can check his BP?"

The girl nodded and returned in a flash with the cuff and a stethoscope. BP was fine. As soon as the kid had a few minutes of oxygen, his skin turned back to normal color and he regained consciousness. The admin and the vet tech helped him off the floor and placed him in the chairs. One gave him a glass of water and the other gave him something to clean the blood off of his hands. House pulled himself off the floor and bent to pick up his cane. He pushed the oxygen mask back at the kid and indicated that he suck on it for a while.

"Thank you so much, this actually happens a lot, " the admin said. "You're a doctor?"

"I watch a lot of TV," House said blandly. The woman looked at him confused and he shook his finger at her. "And you're gullible." She smiled embarrassed and went behind the counter to work on with his paperwork. He took the mask from the kid and took a drag of oxygen himself for a little pick-me-up before turning off the tank and giving it back to the woman. "He'll be fine. Although I can't say how he'll do about the dog…"

She nodded looked over her shoulder down the hall to the emergency room with a grim set to her lips. It apparently wasn't looking good.

"Stephanie can we get Dr. House out of here sometime tonight?" she called into the back room from her spot. "These are instructions for the next few days. No outside, no baths, little food and water at a time. She's to take all the medication and keep the sutures dry, but you probably already know that…" she said with an apologetic smirk. "Just try and keep her from licking at them or pulling them out."

"How?" She was a cat; he couldn't make her do anything.

"She's got a cone on her head now, but… you'll probably do better if you cut a sock and put it around her belly like a miniskirt." He looked at her confused. The vet tech, Stephanie finally came up with the purple crate holding … his cat. He peered inside to see her staring back at him with the most pathetic miserable, dejected face he'd ever seen on an animal. Her little orange head was floating disembodied in this white plastic cone the flared out around her entire neck like a cruel funnel shaped Elizabethan collar. Her green eyes were huge and round and the searched him for a reason that he was doing this horrible thing to her. She felt he had betrayed her. He had never felt such pity for a living creature before in his entire life.

"See what I mean?" she woman said.

"How am I going to get her out of there?" he pointed at the crate.

"The same way she went in, backwards, " the woman told him. He looked at her dubiously. He didn't think that was going to go too well. There were claws involved. "She'll be a little slow and groggy from the anesthesia for a while, so she shouldn't be too much of a fighter."

"She is the cutest little thing, what a piece of work, " Stephanie said sticking her finger in to rub her little nose. "She schmoozed us and loved on us the whole time we were prepping her for surgery. Purring like a truck as we shaved her belly." Yeah, that sounded like her. Little hussy likes the vibrating machinery.

"When your wife called to tell us you were picking her up, she paid the bill by credit card, so you're good to go."

House stared at the woman. His wife? He opened his mouth to tell her she was incorrect but then snapped it shut. Oh what the hell did it matter? He didn't know these people. He ws tired and wanted to get the hell out of there.

"Bye, bye Sexy Kitty…" Stephanie chimed.

House looked at the crate and then at the door and then at his cane. This was not going to go well. "Umm, I'm gonna need a little help…"

The woman's face went soft. "Of course, Stephanie could help Dr. House to the car."

He gave the woman thin smile and followed the little vet tech out into the late afternoon air. She turned questioningly at him with the carrier in her arms for which direction to his car. He rolled his eyes for a second and then decided not to make an issue out of the fact that she couldn't deduce that with a cane in his hand and his so obvious limp that he was parked in the one and only handicapped spot in the lot. Instead he gestured to his dilapidated old heap of junk and opened the door for her to situate the crate inside. He muttered a thanks and the tiny little woman bound up the steps back into the office.

He could hear Sexy Kitty's plaintive wails already and he wasn't even to his side of the car yet. Opening the door and getting in, he wondered if she was actually ok. He'd never heard an animal make that kind of noise before. It was kind of disturbing. He drove out of the parking lot and began to make his way over to Cate's apartment. The little cat had quite a set of lungs on her. He stopped at a light and hoped that the person in the next car couldn't hear her. She sobbed and bawled like she was being tortured by the grim reaper. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and tried to close off his mind to it. The light turned and he accelerated through the intersection at which she carried on like he was dragging her behind the car instead of inside it. He approached another light and it turned yellow before he got to it but decided to gun it through. He couldn't take sitting at another light for an additional thirty to forty seconds more. He made it through but by the skin of his bumper. With Sexy Kitty loudly bemoaning her outcast state in his ear he was quickly becoming a liability on the road. The escalating stress in the car was palpable enough to cut it with the proverbial knife.

"Will you shut up?" he said to the cat which caused her to moan louder at the sound of his voice. Ok, maybe if he tried to talk to her she'd stop. "I'm bringing you home. We'll be there soon." She cried louder and harder. His head began to ache, badly. He had just passed the turn for his street. Cate's was another ten minutes away and it was 4:45pm. There was traffic now and that meant more time trapped in the car with the wailing cat. Fuck it. He was taking her to his place. He pulled an illegal u-turn in the middle of the road and drove down the side street to his apartment. He'd deal with everything else later.

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House stood back breathing heavily and admired his handiwork. She looked ridiculous but he supposed this horrible feline in a mini tube sock look was a far cry better than the wicked Queen Elizabeth funnel head she had on before. The woman was right. She had been pretty docile getting out of the cage even with that collar on and she sat for him to remove it. Putting the sock on however, was kind of like putting a jelly filled water balloon in to condom with fuzz. Legs and claws and fur struggled and howled as he tried to pull the four inch diameter make-shift dressing over the eight to ten inch diameter butt of the cat. It was about as affective as tit on a bull.

Then he had the idea to try and pull it over her head. That was slightly better as he could at least funnel her front paws through the whole and she'd be blind for a few seconds as it went over her head. She squirmed out of his reach across the coffee table and he had to grab her by her back paw and pull her back to him. He winced as she shrieked at him and he hoped that she didn't rip her stitches. He did a cursory check, she was fine so he resumed his battle with trying to pull this sock over her shoulders down and over her naked belly. She looked like she had a six inch deep chunk carved out of her fur on her shaved belly when you looked at her form the side. He was amazed by how much fur she actually had that hid a skinny little pink body underneath it all. She'd probably look like that crazy alien cat from the Austin Powers movie if you actually shaved all of her fur off. It was a little creepy. He finally managed to get the sock over her sutures which had thankfully remained intact. And he let go. He had fur in his mouth, up his nose and in his eyes. He ran his hands over his face forty-five times to get it off and out and then brushed his clothes with his hands. He sneezed and Sexy Kitty turned to stare at him for his rudeness.

"Excuse me, " he snarked at her and she groaned. "You don't get to be mad at me after everything I just went through. Don't be an ungrateful bitch."

"_You're the Dancing Queen, only seventeen…"_

"_You're the Dancing Queen, only seventeen…"_

House lifted his cell phone off of his belt and flipped it open. "If I ever offer to pick up the cat from anywhere again, shoot me."

Wilson's laugh chortled through the cell phone speaker. "Went well I take it, " he said with unbridled mirth.

"Yeah, like heart attack…" he blew more cat hair from his nose. "What's up?"

"It's Monday night, are you free?"

"Of course I am, what the hell kind of question is that?"

"Well… I don't know what you've got planned nowadays."

"I've got a cat in my apartment that is an ungrateful bitch…" he said loudly at her, "And my woman is working late, got any ideas?"

"Wait did you say you have the cat at your apartment?" Wilson asked incredulously

"Yeah," he said distractedly. "Oh my god! Have you ever driven a cat anywhere in a car?"

"No, can't say I have."

"The noise that they make is like a dying wildebeest."

"So you brought her to your house?"

"I couldn't be in that car all the way to Cate's, you don't even know…"

"House, do you have food, water…cat litter?"

House paused and tilted his head. Shit. "No. That stuff is at Cate's."

"The cat needs that stuff. Either you have to bring her back to Cate's…"

"No way, not going back in the car with that thing."

"Then you have to buy some…" Wilson said.

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Dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, Wilson picked up House within the half an hour and the two were on their way into Petsmart.

"If you don't put the cat back in the car eventually she will forever be a resident of chez House, " Wilson said as they walked to the cat section of the super pet store.

"Can't think about that right now, I just need cat litter so she doesn't pee any where she's not supposed to."

"You put her in the tub right?"

"Yeah, she's not going anywhere. She's still dopey from the anesthesia." He came to a stop in front of a wall sized shelving unit. He blinked. "So, cat litter, why are there five hundred varieties of cat litter? It's sand isn't it?"

"I don't know…we always had dogs."

"Well you're a big help."

"She said something about _organic_ when we were out the other day…" House said trying to rack his brain. This just wasn't something that he paid attention to.

"Here's one that's biodegradable, _organic_ grain… says it's supposed to be healthy for the cats and the environment."

"Good, grab that one, " he ordered and moved over to grab a small corner shaped box that had a lid. "Perfect. Now food."

They turned down the food aisle. Great five hundred more varieties to choose from. Luckily, he recognized the gold bag right away. "Here, this is the one she has." Wilson juggled the two bags on each hip. He looked like he was carrying two ornery toddlers away from a pony ride. House laughed at him. This was so ridiculous. How did he get himself into this mess? Oh yeah… he was distracted by perky little cheerleaders.

They made their way over to the checkout line and waited behind a couple who had their dog in a baby carrier in the front of the cart. House rolled his eyes at Wilson who shrugged. Good God, people were idiots. Finally it was their turn. "Petsmart card?"

House stared at the clerk. "What?"

"Do you have a Petsmart card, sir?"

He shook his head. "No." What the hell would he have one of those for?

"Would you like to sign up for one, it's free and you can be mailed coupons…"

"No."

The clerk stared at him like he was crazy.

"Just ring it up…" He snapped.

"Your total is $85.42."

Wilson snorted. "Maybe you should sign up for the card."

House glared at him and took out his card to swipe it in the machine. He punched in his PIN and they were done.

Stepping back out onto the sidewalk they dumped the supplies into the trunk of Wilson's Volvo.

House blew into his hands. It was getting really cold out lately and his leg was starting to ache. He popped to Vicodin. "I'm hungry, " House announced.

"We could eat, " Wilson suggested. They both looked around the strip mall. _Panera_.

House made a face.

Wilson tipped his head to the side considering it.

"Uh-uh, no way. We just bought cat food together. We're not going in, two dudes, and eating at _Panera_."

House turned around a few times to look at his options. A red sign beamed like a Mecca from the crest of the knoll across the lot.

"_Fatburger_…"

"_Fatburger_…"

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House cracked his eye open at the shrill ringing of his telephone behind his head. He opened his eyes fully and surmised that he'd fallen asleep on the couch after Wilson left. They had set up Sexy Kitty with all of her necessities and watched the Monday Night Football game with a few well deserved beers. The phone rang again and he went to reach behind his head to pick up the receiver. When he stretched back, a weight shifted on his chest and a murmured complaint came from its occupant. The little cat had curled up and was sleeping contentedly on his chest, that was until he had shifted positions. She blinked her green eyes at him and placed her head back down squinting her eyes shut. She had apparently forgiven him. He sighed and reached back trying not to roll her off of him.

He pushed the call button. "Hello."

"Where are you?" Cates voice squawked at him.

He pulled the phone away from his ear. Looked at it and put it back. "You called me. At home. " Where did she think he was?

"I thought you'd be here. Where's the cat?"

He ran his hand over his eyes to rub the sleep from them. He turned his head to read the time on the TiVo. 1:15 AM. "She's here with me."

"What? Why?"

He let out a huge breath. Why did she sound so pissed? "Because… I didn't feel like dealing with her in the car. What difference does it make?"

He heard her breathe an aggravated sigh into the phone. "Ok. Fine. Is she ok?"

"Yeah, she's fine. She's sleeping on me right now."

"Ok." She paused. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'm going to bed. I'm wiped."

"Oookayyy, " he said carefully. She was mad. He was confused. He didn't get it.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight." The line clicked off and he looked at the phone like it was going to tell him what the fuck that was all about. He rolled his eyes and tossed the receiver onto the coffee table. Whatever… he'd deal with it in the morning.


	34. Chapter 34: Girl Talk

Sessions 34: Girl Talk

_He'd deal with it in the morning…. Or not._

The next morning House woke up in his room feeling like he'd slept for a total of about two minutes. He had fallen back to sleep on the couch after Cate hung up on him and woke sometime around 3:30AM. He'd moved into bed then, but sleep remained elusive thereafter. He tossed and turned and lay awake for the better part of the next two hours. His thigh began screaming at him around 5:00AM and he had to get up and take Vicodin. Something he hadn't had to do in over a month. His head hurt, his neck ached and his back was killing him. He was fucking tired.

By 8:30AM he finally gave up, fed the cat and went into work. He noted a distinct chill in the mid-November air when he walked into the hospital. He had figured it was getting close to time to store the bike for the coming winter, but hoped that it wouldn't be this soon. Just the thought depressed him because that meant that snow was coming before long and would be here in all of its slop and treachery until late April. Guys with canes and icy snow and the frigid temperature mixed about as well as orange juice and milk in the same glass.

"You look like shit. What happened, " Wilson said coming up along side him as he approached the elevator.

"Couldn't sleep." He punched the elevator button irritatedly.

"The cat keep you up all night?"

"No."

"You alright?" Wilson asked, his concern permeating his voice.

"I said I couldn't sleep."

"Are you in pain?"

"I'm always in pain."

Wilson sighed. "I meant more than usual."

The elevator opened and they stepped inside. "I'm getting there, " he sniped with a sharp look at his inquisitor which effectively silenced him.

The doors closed and they took the short ride up to their floor. Wilson followed House into his office. He noticed that none of the ducklings were around, which either meant that they had nothing going on and were disbursed to other departments or that he was really fucking early. He glanced at his watch and grimaced. It was the later. He was way too fucking early. Now it made sense that he was actually walking into the building with Wilson.

He sat down in his desk chair not bothering to take off his pea-coat. He was cold.

Wilson sat at one of the chairs in front of his desk and placed his briefcase down on the floor by his side. He had on a yellow shirt with a navy and red tie. House made a face and pointed at him, "That's an ugly tie."

Wilson looked down. "Amber bought me this tie."

House paused and stared at him. "No she didn't."

"Yes, she did." He defended.

"Then she was obviously blind, " he said flatly. _This wasn't even fun._

"No. She didn't buy it. " He admitted and then drew his eyebrows together in a frown. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

"There's nothing to tell, " he said plainly. "I couldn't sleep. My leg hurts like a bitch. Probably because it's getting cold out. End of story."

"Ok." Wilson stood and picked up his brief case.

"That's it?" House questioned holding his hands up. "That's all you're going to say?"

"Yup." The oncologist turned on his sensibly loafered heel and left.

House crooked his head to the side perplexed. _Well, that was unexpected_.

"_Got a Black Magic Woman…"_

He fished his cell phone out of his coat pocket and flipped it open.

:: Sorry I was a bitch. I was tired::

::No big deal::

"_Got a Black Magic Woman…"_

::Thank you for getting the cat::

::No problem::

"_Got a Black Magic Woman…"_

::TTYL, full load of rounds with the crazies this morning::

::OK::

He sighed heavily and tossed his phone onto the top of his desk. Fuck. He was moody.

Foreman walked into his office carrying his briefcase and overcoat along with a tell-tale navy blue folder. He smiled and held it up before tossing it on his desk. "We've got a case."

Good, somebody was mysteriously dying. Things were looking up.

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The next afternoon, Cate sat at one of the cafeteria tables with Cameron, Cuddy and Thirteen enjoying a much needed cup of hot cocoa. It had been extremely frigid for the past two days, both weather-wise and House-wise. She didn't want to over analyze the situation and think it was because she had been irritated about him bringing Sexy Kitty to his apartment. She really didn't care that he had done that. She just had been tired and was thrown for a loop when he wasn't at her place with the cat when she got home that night. She had apologized via text and that was essentially the last time she'd talked to him in almost two days. He had a new case that was pretty difficult and had the team virtually scrambling for a diagnosis before this patient died within the next twelve hours. This happened to be the first time Thirteen was able to sit for a rest after running a battery of tests on their patient. She had snuck away from the duck pond to take a breather from the case and apparently from House.

"Thanksgiving's in two weeks, anyone have interesting plans, " Cuddy asked from behind her paper tea cup. She warmed her petite hands along the perimeter as she blew carefully across the hot liquid.

Thirteen shrugged indifferently. "I usually go to the movies or work, " she said picking at the top of her muffin. "We never really did anything for holidays because my mom was always sick."

Cameron gave her a compassionate smile and then turned to look at everyone with expectant big eyes. "Chase and I are going to my folks in Wisconsin."

Cate took a sip of her hot chocolate and smiled warmly. Poor Cameron looked nervous. "First time meeting the parents?"

She nodded and looked into her coffee cup. "Yeah, I'm not really sure how that's going to go, " she said. "He's the first man I'll be bringing home since my husband." She crossed her arms over her scrubs in a self- protective gesture.

"I'm sure it will be fine, " Cuddy said. "Chase is a nice guy. What's not to like?"

"I know… " she said resignedly. "It's just the whole commitment thing of it all."

"You can still dump his ass, it's not like you're going home to get married, " Thirteen said eliciting a laugh from the table. "And besides, it's not like bringing home the fabulous human specimen this one's got to introduce." She said gesturing at Cate with her thumb.

Cameron and Cuddy both snorted in girlish laughter. Cate grimaced and placed her hand on her forehead. She shook her head. "Yours will be a piece of cake."

Cameron's face grew concerned. "What _are_ you guys going to do? Is he going to meet your parents?"

Cate shrugged noncommittally. "It's just my dad and I have no idea. We haven't even talked about it."

"You cannot bring him to meet your father. He's an ass, " Cuddy insisted and Thirteen nodded in agreement.

Cate laughed, envisioning how a meeting of such monumental proportions would go between her anti-social, grumpy doctor and her equally skeptical father. "Yeah, it's not something that will go well for sure. My father's a retired cop…"

There was a collective groan. Cuddy grimaced and Thirteen laughed. Cameron at least looked a little sympathetic and said, "He hates cops."

"He should after the whole Tritter mess, " Cuddy said causing both Thirteen and Cate to stare at her in confusion. Cameron's face fell into a warning expression. Cuddy looked back at them and rolled her eyes realizing she needed to explain. "He was arrested for drug possession with the intent to traffic."

"Which he didn't do…" Cameron said vehemently making it a point to look at Cate.

"But he did steal Wilson's prescription pad and pills from a dead patient. He almost went to jail for ten years, " Cuddy said pointedly at Cameron. "Don't defend him."

"He was in pain and self-mutilating because you refused to give him Vicodin, " she argued back.

"Because he needed to get off the pills, " Cuddy insisted. "He was going to kill somebody or himself."

"No, because you wanted him to stop being a liability and taking risks…" Cameron threw back.

"He almost cut a girl in half…if that's not a sign…" Cuddy defended.

"He was doing what he thought was right…" Cameron huffed.

Thirteen stared wide-eyed and looked at Cate. Cate took a deep breathe and then leaned forward. "Guys. Stop."

The two women stared at her and they both instantly flushed scarlet in embarrassment.

"Oh my God, Cate…" Cameron stammered.

"Cate, really…" Cuddy began.

Cate held her hands up. "Please. I'm a big girl. I know there are … things… that are bad that I don't know about. That I'll hear about through you and not him… Because we all know how communicative he can be…"

Cameron touched her hand to her arm. "I'm so sorry, we shouldn't have."

Cuddy smiled apologetically. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have brought it up. It wasn't my place."

Cate took a patient breath. "You guys have known him longer than I have and I can't image what kinds of things you've seen. But if this friendship is going to work, " she said circling her hand around the table, "then you have to stop worrying about protecting me or offending me. House is House. That's part of the deal, right?" she said with a look at Cuddy.

"Your right, " Cuddy said.

"Sorry, " Cameron said.

Cate sighed and sat back against her chair. She shook her head and thought about him for a minute. There still was so much she didn't know about him. He evidently had some big monsters lurking in his closet, but then again she'd known that already. Everybody had a past that they'd like to forget, herself included. It didn't change the fact that she loved him deeply and that she wanted more than anything to be with him. But, it made it hard to get close and maintain that intimacy sometimes. That sometimes she had difficulty trusting, as well. He'd been so distant and grumpy since Monday night. And she didn't understand. "Believe me, I know that I'm going to need to be able to go somewhere to vent to friends who understand what an annoying, frustrating pain in the ass he is, " Cate said.

"Uh oh, what did he do now, " Cameron asked.

"Oh, he didn't _do_ anything. I just haven't seen or heard from him in two days." Cate said.

Thirteen snorted and rolled her eyes. "Consider yourself lucky. He's been a freaking nightmare for the past two days."

"Why?" Cuddy asked look at Cate like she should know.

"I have no idea, " Cate said shrugging her shoulders.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I think. I asked him to pick up the cat from the vet on Monday because I covered for Mickleson in the ER, you were with me, " she said to Cameron who nodded. "He did. And then I covered again last night…"

Thirteen rolled her eyes in understanding. "Well, _that's_ it, " she announced.

The three looked at her. And her elfin face smirked. "You haven't been home."

Cate shook her head confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, home with him. He can't sleep without you, " Thirteen said.

Cate drew her eyebrows together. "What?"

"I'm saying he can not sleep without you. That night you went to dinner with your father… he came in the next morning and was a complete asshole, and I mean more so than usual. When you don't stay the night, he doesn't sleep and then he's a bitch. His pain is worse and he's unbearable to deal with."

Cameron nodded. "It makes sense if you haven't been there the last two nights."

Cuddy nodded. "He did ask me for another refill on his Vicodin. His leg has been bad the last two days. And he made some snide comment about my ass being fat." She sneered at the memory.

Cate tilted her head in contemplation. "I thought he was just pissed because I asked him to pick up the cat and that turned out to be more of a nightmare than he expected. And then I was tired and cranky. I got upset because he brought her to his place instead."

"He brought her to his apartment?" Cameron asked incredulously.

"Yeah, " Cate nodded.

"The cat?" Cuddy cried.

"Whoa, " Cameron said with an air of gravity.

"That was probably hysterical, " Thirteen said with a chuckle.

"He hates cats, " Cuddy said.

"Not this one, " Cate said shaking her head. "This one loves him. She won't leave him alone. He lets her sleep on him."

Cuddy let out a chortle. "I can't believe it."

"I can't believe it either, " Cameron said. "He really took the cat to his apartment?"

"Yeah, she's been there since, " Cate said.

"So, he stole your cat?" Cuddy exclaimed.

"No, he just did me a favor, " Cate said.

"That's actually really sweet, " Cameron said. "I think Hell is freezing over but…"

Thirteen shook her head. "Oh, puh-leez. You guys, she's got him wrapped so tight, " she said holding up her pinky finger to indicate her meaning.

"No. It's not like that, " Cate protested.

"He can't sleep without you… He's a cranky pain in the ass when you're not there…" Cameron listed.

"He was a cranky pain in the ass before me…That's nothing new." Cate defended.

"There's only been one other time he's been like this," Cuddy said.

Cameron bobbed her head in agreement. "Stacey."

"Stacey, " Cuddy affirmed.

"So what does that mean exactly, " Cate questioned.

"It means that he is absolutely head over heals…" Cuddy said

"… In love with you, " Cameron finished.

Cate smiled shyly and a blush stole over her cheeks. She covered her lips with her fingers. _How could they possibly know that? _

Cameron gasped and then blurted out, "Has he said…"

"What? No!" Cate held out her hand to stop her, afraid she'd given away too much. He would die if he knew she told. "No… I didn't say anything."

"Nooo, you didn't have to, " Cuddy said incredulously.

"Well, you know what this means, " Thirteen said.

"No, what?" Cate asked afraid to hear the answer.

"You're going to have to move in with him, because I can't work like this."

Cameron and Cuddy laughed out loud and Cate rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shit, " Thirteen said looking suspiciously away from the entrance to cafeteria. "In coming…"

Cate spun in her chair and saw House limp purposefully in a bee-line over to their table. Taub and Kutner followed dutifully behind him. He was leaning heavily on his cane distinctly favoring his right side today. He looked incredibly sexy in his rumpled navy blazer over an equally wrinkled white shirt and black tee. His jeans and sneakers left much to be desired and he needed a shave, but what else was new. She bit her lip as he approached and her stomach did a little flip-flop. _God, he was so fucking cute_. His face was furrowed into a worried grimace. His blue eyes were keenly observing the scene in front of him and he clearly didn't like what he saw. He was tired and he was in more pain than usual. She could see it in the creases around his eyes. She smiled warmly at him and he squinted back at her in return.

"I need the skinny lesbian, " he announced scathingly and then pivoted heavily on his cane to stare pointedly at Cuddy. "No, not you; I meant Thirteen."

Cuddy volleyed a caustic glare at him and ignored his comment. Cameron snorted in annoyance for Thirteen. It was like the big bully at school came to crash their party.

"It's bi-sexual, jackass, " she defended herself standing with an irritated sigh. Kutner grinned like an idiot from behind House's shoulder. Apparently that joke just never got old. Taub looked around with irritated patience waiting to move on.

"I don't pay you to sit around having tea with the rest of the lady doctors who do nothing at this hospital, " he declared.

She rolled her eyes at him and mouthed something to him no one else could see. She turned back to the girls with a beaming grin. "Duty calls, " she said as an apology to the rest of the group.

Cate raised an eyebrow at him and he lowered his eyes and shook his head once. He sighed heavily and then brought his eyes back up to meet her gaze for a long moment. The wheels were churning in his head. He had a lot on his mind and was in no mood to deal with it. He looked like he wanted to say something to her but changed his mind. He grunted and then turned on his heel to leave. He paused, doubled back and fixed her with a thin frown before swiping her cocoa from the table. He tipped it in thanks and took off with his posse.

The remaining trio sat silent in his wake for a few moments. He was like a gale-force wind. In like a lion, drop a few cutting insults and out like another lion. No lamb here, poor innocent thing was caught in the cross-fire…

"Well that was like a drive by shooting, " Cuddy said.

"He looked like a deer caught in headlights, " Cameron observed. "I almost felt bad."

"Yeah, " Cate agreed.

"What do you think that was all about?" Cuddy asked.

Cate frowned. She knew exactly what was on his mind. She could see it the minute he laid eyes on them. "It freaks him out that the four of us were talking together."

"Well he's just going to have to grow up, " Cuddy said.

"Uh, how long have you known him?" Cameron scoffed. "He's like thirteen going on five."

"It's got to be weird for him, " Cate said. "All four of the women in his life together at one table… doing girl talk."

"He barely handles us one on one, " Cameron pointed out.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Like I said, he's going to have to grow up."

"It's going to take some getting used to, " Cate said. "That's all." _At least she hoped_.


	35. Chapter 35: Not Yet

Sessions 35: Not yet

House sat with his feet on his desk in his darkened office illuminated only by the lamp on his credenza. He balanced his red and gray thinking ball on the curve of his cane. He tilted it and let it roll up a few inches before flipping it deftly and catching it again in the opposite direction. He repeated the motion a few times. He was hoping for some kind of epiphany to come to him about this patient. But he had nothing. He'd exhausted all of his options and that of course did not sit well with him. It was something. It was always something. Even nothing was something. People didn't just die from nothing. But that something he could find. At least not yet.

Wilson entered the office quietly and came to sit in the chair in front of his desk. House looked up and was surprised to see he was still working. He had his lab coat on and a stethoscope around his neck. He must have come from seeing a patient. In a show of solidarity for the late hour, he tossed a bag of cookies onto his lap and placed a cup of coffee down near the edge of the front of his blotter. He had a matching set for himself.

"Here, it was all I could find at this hour, " he said apologetically.

House placed the ball on its spot on the desk and leaned his cane against his chair. He muttered 'thanks' and grabbed the bag. He opened it, fingered a cookie and popped it in. Mini chocolate chips. His favorite.

"Any luck, " Wilson said hopefully.

"No not yet, " he said around his mouthful. He ran his hand over the back of his neck trying to work the tension out of his muscles.

"What do women talk about?"

"Huh?" Wilson stared expectantly at him for a moment. "What do you mean?"

He tossed a cookie in the air and caught it in his mouth. "When they sit together, what do they talk about?"

Wilson shrugged. "Shoes, hair, what they ate that day, will it make them fat? I don't know…"

House looked at his sneakers on the edge of his desk.

"Why?" Wilson asked curiously opening his cookies.

He shrugged. "No reason." He heaved in a huge sigh and craned his neck again cracking the vertebrae on both sides. This was becoming annoying. "I think I need a new bed, " he announced distractedly.

Wilson angled his head at him and did a double take, a little dizzy from switching gears. House smirked at him. He was put of practice. "A new bed?"

"Yeah, I just can't seem to get comfortable in it lately, " he said. "My back is all fucked up."

"You think that's why you've been in more pain lately," he speculated.

House shrugged. It made sense. Especially if he wasn't sleeping. "Maybe."

"What's wrong with the bed?"

"It's not comfortable."

"What's not comfortable? The mattress?"

"It's hard. The pillows aren't soft. And I can't stand the sheets, they're rough, " he explained popping another cookie into his mouth. "I can't sleep in it anymore."

Wilson nodded eating his own cookies. "Hmm. So why don't you try new sheets?"

"But it's not just the sheets, It's the whole bed… it isn't soft, " he argued.

"Okay, so get a new mattress, " Wilson suggested.

House nodded. He'd thought about that. He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee.

"What kind of bed do you want?" Wilson asked.

"Something soft. With lots of pillows. And a thick down comforter." He had actually given this a lot of thought since yesterday morning.

Wilson was looking at him oddly now.

"What are you looking at?"

"House, they have stores where you can buy this stuff, you know?"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be the same, " he argued crunching on another cookie.

"The same?" Wilson shook his head at him. "This isn't about _you're_ bed." He paused and restarted, "Well it is, actually, but it's really about Cate's bed."

"What?" He stared at him.

"You want Cate's bed, " he said.

"No, that's stupid, " he denied. "I just can't get to sleep in my bed the way that it is."

"Because you want Cate's bed, " he stated matter-of-factly. "In your apartment."

"Why would I want Cate's bed in my apartment? I have a bed already, and she has her own apartment," House said. Wilson was nuts. He was making more out of this than need be. So typical.

"You just said you think you need a new bed, " he said exasperatedly.

"I said I need a _new_ bed, I didn't say I want Cate to move her bed to my place, " he argued.

"Oh no? " he questioned.

"No."

House's pager chimed. 911 Code. His patient stopped breathing. "Gotta go, patient dying."

He rose from his chair and grabbed his cane to hurry out of his office.

Wilson swiveled in the chair and called after him. "Don't think you're getting out of this conversation indefinitely just because you're patient is dying…"

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"Why are you still here?" Thirteen leaned against the doorframe of House's office.

"Why are you still here?" he asked back from his prone position on the floor.

"Because I have no one to go home to, " she said coming into the room slowly. "What's your excuse?"

He inhaled a deep breath and shrugged. "I'm waiting."

He watched her sit in the ottoman to his yellow chair and peer down at him from above. She looked tired in the dark light. Her skin was pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. He had pushed her too hard these past two days and he felt like an ass.

"You should go home, " he said quietly. "There's no reason for you to be here."

"So should you, " she said. "Instead of lying on the floor in your office. There's nothing more we can do. It's over."

"I'm fine. You need to rest. It's been a long two days."

She looked at him and frowned. "Go home and get some sleep. Please."

"Not yet."

He narrowed his eyes at her and she leaned forward placing her elbows on her lap, "She'll be there."

He looked at her and gave her a thin smile. How did she always know?

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It was after eleven when he walked through the door to the apartment. The lights were out. It was dark except for the dim counter lights that shown from the kitchen doorway. Sexy Kitty trotted happily down the hallway from his room and hollered at him in greeting as she rubbed herself against his pantleg. He tossed his keys in the dish on the credenza and dropped his knapsack to the floor before bending over to pick up the little cat. As he cradled her in his arms, she placed her paws on his chest and peered into his eyes. He smiled as she bumped her forehead against his chin. _Stupid little cat_. He scratched her behind the ears and gave her a kiss on the forehead before depositing her back down on the hardwood floor where she skittered away to wherever it was that she hung out. He forgot that he should have checked her sutures, but she still had his sock around her belly. She was probably fine. He'd check her in the morning.

He shook his head and shrugged out of his pea coat. He hung it up on the coat rack and meandered tiredly down the dark hall to the bedroom. He pushed the door open with a slim glimmer of hope that he'd find her sleeping and then berated himself for being disappointed when he saw that the bed was empty. He was an idiot. It was late; he hadn't talked to her in two days. And he was a royal fuck this afternoon; of course she wouldn't be there. Why would she be? He flicked the light on irritatedly and sat down on the edge of the bed to kick off his sneakers and socks. He ran his hands over his thigh and massaged the ever present ache. It was bad tonight after being on it all day. He immediately took two Vicodin and wanted to go back in to have a glass of bourbon but the thought of having to traipse back down the hallway stayed that idea for the time being. Instead, he took off his pants and button down and tossed them dismissively over the footboard. He groaned as he cool air hit his bare skin causing goose bumps to tighten the flesh on his thigh. Just the simple act made it feel worse. He rubbed it more forcefully and decided the bourbon was well worth the effort.

He hobbled all the way back into the kitchen and took out a glass and the bottle of Kentucky Whiskey from the cabinet. He poured a fat man's two fingers worth and drank it down in a swallow. Bringing his head forward, his eyes landed inside the cabinet and he shook his head. It was neat and tidy, all the glasses in a row. Another casualty of Cate's cleaning rampage. He slammed the glass down on the counter with a thud. What the Hell was he doing? He didn't need bourbon. He hadn't needed it since Cate. He'd slept fine for the past month without having to drink before bed. If he could sleep fine when she was here, he could sleep fine when she wasn't. He put the whiskey back and left the kitchen in a cloud of self-recrimination.

He needed to get it together. He needed sleep. His nerves were shot and his emotions were swirling around his head in a firestorm. He made his way down the hall slowly holding onto the walls for support. He inhaled a deep sigh and he stopped mid-step to look around for a second. He tilted his head curiously. The hall smelled of Egypt. It was weird. He hadn't smelled that since he was twelve and his father was stationed in Cairo. It smelled distinctly like sandalwood, Egyptian jasmine and eucalyptus. It was a faint but exotic scent and he wondered why he was just noticing it now. He smiled and figured that Cate had put out some candles or something of the sort to make the place smell better. He inhaled the air and felt the warmth of his bourbon begin to mix with the last crumbs of his cookies that Wilson had brought him hours ago. Time to go to bed. He was imagining scents now.

Shaking his head, he decided to pee first and then fall into a coma. Carefully he tramped to the bathroom door and pushed it open with his shoulder.

He was assaulted by a shrill scream and waft of sandalwood steam.

"Ahh..Holy shit…"

"What the…" he jumped back and bumped the door frame with his back.

His heart pounded in his chest and his ears. He tried to remember to breath.

"House?!"

"Cate?"

He blinked his eyes to be sure that she was actually there.

"Oh my god, you gave me a heart attack, " she said breathlessly. "You're like a ninja…"

It took him a moment to regain his balance and his senses. He stared at her mesmerized. The exotic sandalwood and jasmine and eucalyptus scent was coming from the tub. His tub. Where she was sitting. Bathing. In a cauldron of bubbles. With her hair up. Her cheeks were flushed pink. And her skin was glistening. And wet.

She took his breath away.

"I…" he stammered.

"You scare the shit out of me, " she said. "I didn't expect you home tonight."

"I…" He closed his eyes and then opened them again. "I wasn't going to be. My patient's dead."

"Oh, god, Greg, " she said, gravely. "Are you ok?"

He shook his head and looked around the bathroom. Anywhere but at her. And the full tops of her breasts peeking out of the edge of her bubbles. "I'm fine." He looked back at her, because he couldn't help it. She was too beautiful.

She shifted slightly in the water and came to lean her chin on her hands at the edge of the tub. The expanse of her back came out of the water, shiny and slick. He swallowed with difficultly.

"Umm, I didn't think you'd be here tonight, " he said. _Did his voice just come out that strangled?_

She smiled at him and tipped her head to the side. "I figured I'd stay here incase you did come home. I missed you."

_Whoa, breathe_… She looked incredibly sexy as she stared expectantly at him from the tub, covered only in disappearing bubbles. He nodded. "Oh , ok." That made perfect sense. Feeling suddenly idiotic about what to do with his hands, he awkwardly crossed his arms over his chest and realized that he was in his t-shirt…and boxers. No pants.

He turned around quickly and placed his hand on the door frame. God damn it. She was face to face with his scar. What was he going to do? He wasn't prepared for this. He wanted to leave. He wanted to run. But, he couldn't just run, because he couldn't…run. _Shit_…_Breathe…Breathe_…

He heard the water slosh and puddle as she stepped from the tub. He knew that she was naked behind him. He closed his eyes and fought against the image in his mind of her beautiful soft curves and luscious skin. His fingers curled into a fist by his side. If he had pants on, he might have peeked… If he had a leg, he would have picked her up and thrown her on the bed and made love to her until she screamed his name. If only… he wasn't a cripple…

He felt her hand touch his back, hot and damp from the water through the cotton of his t-shirt. She urged him to turn around. He took in a shuddering breath and felt his heart squeeze at the tenderness of her touch. This wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. He turned slowly searching for her eyes.

She had thankfully wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and was clutching it together at her breasts with her one hand. But it did noting to mask her seductive allure. Her skin glistened exquisitely from the scented oils from her bath. The air was warm and dewy, full of intoxicating fragrance. He thought he might lose his mind.

With her free hand she touched the side of his face. He leaned in to the warmth of her palm. Her eyes were dark and velvety as she watched him struggle with what to do now. She smiled slowly easing his confusion as she pulled him to her and touched her lips to his. The kiss was gentle and coaxing. He inhaled her scent, heady and exotic, and allowed himself to melt into her sweetness. She deepened the kiss ever so slightly slowly pushing away his fear and his tentativeness.

He had missed her so much. He didn't even know how badly until he touched her. She was his strength, his salvation. She was his everything. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her against the length of his body as he kissed her profoundly taking everything she had to offer him. He loved her like he loved no other woman in his life. He had never felt such a depth of need for someone. He wanted her so badly, and for so long, he could almost taste the sweet release that was to come... But he just couldn't… he couldn't bring himself to take all that she was giving him. He didn't know how to expose himself to such unbridled trust. He didn't know how to be free. No, no he couldn't do it. Not yet.

He pulled back from her, breathing deeply, heavily aroused and shaken. She deserved so much more than him. He looked into her eyes with an apology on his lips, ashamed at his own weakness. "I just can't, " he murmured. "Not yet."

She placed her fingertips on his swollen lips to silence him and look into the depths of his eyes. "I know."

His breath hitched in his throat and he was afraid to speak. Her tenderness with him and genuine empathy overwhelmed him.

"I love you, " she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

And for once in his life he truly believed, that not everyone lies.


	36. Chapter 36: Making Plans

Sessions 36: Making Plans

_Author's Note: Hi guys, just wanted to poke my head in and let you all know how grateful I am for your glowing review. The make me go "squeee"! I wait ever so patiently for the tone on my blackberry to tell me I have FanFiction email. Curse those Eddie Bauer free shipping email… they taunt me and make me believe that it might be one of you… Nevertheless, After that heavy chapter, we all need a does of some lightness. My chest still hurts from writing the last one… PS you want to really cry…Listen to Vienna Tang's _Eric Song_ while you read it. I played it over and over again when I wrote it. It's quite powerful. And Mindy and Ange.. I thank you for your beautiful words… I'd have responded to you but your profiles doesn't allow me to._

Cate opened her eyes slowly to see that the sun was indeed coming out this morning and that meant yes, it was time to get out of bed and go to work. She closed her eyes and opened them again, just incase. Bummer. No such luck. She was warm and cozy curled up beside House with his arm around her and her head resting on his chest. He breathed evenly and his heart beat softly under his ribs in her ear. Her leg was draped over his under the covers and she ran her foot along the length of his shin on the inside of his calf to his knee. The hair on his leg tickled her toes and she let out a contented sigh. She loved to lie next to him and to feel his arms round her and his heat through her clothes warming her. The hard lines of his body were contoured to fit perfectly with her own and she thought that somewhere maybe they were made as a matching set. Two halves to a whole. It was a childish notion she knew, but it made her happy. Silly, giddy, girlishly, happy.

Yesterday, when Thirteen has said that House couldn't sleep when he was alone and without her, a piece of her heart fell off and sprouted wings. It fluttered around her chest like a butterfly in a glass bell jar, an effervescent dancing testament to the cherished secret that only she knew. He loved her. And only her. Of course, everyone else was beginning to figure that out. The obvious signals were glaring in everyone's face but for the time being it was her treasure to know. It was her secret of how he felt about her. It was her private knowledge of his paralyzing vulnerability in the face of pure and open intimacy. Her familiarity alone of his deepest fear to trust implicitly, his trepidation of judgment and humiliation. It was her privilege to know the sadness for the things he'd lost and his honest belief that he didn't deserve a life like everyone else. He allowed her and only her to bare witness to those things. And that made the little butterfly soar far and wide.

She loved him so much it ached deep in the core of her chest. It was overwhelming and consuming. It felt like the deep soul changing kind of love that books and movies were written about but it was rooted in the basest reality she knew. It was raw and unrefined and like nothing she'd ever felt before. This man, whom no one could get close to, whom no one could touch; he wasn't kind. He wasn't even likable. He had done horrifying, reprehensible things to himself and to those around him. He thought he was justified because he was a brilliant scientist who saved lives with his vast mind, quick and as dangerous as an electric current. He wielded his tongue like a weapon, its sharp edges could make those around him bleed with the one strategically placed word. And his eyes could freeze you where you stood with a single fraction of a glare.

But there was a side to him that no one else saw or even dared to know. There was a side to him that was hidden beneath the layers of anger and hurt, sadness and self-pity. He _was_ likable. He _was_ kind. He cherished and appreciated. He spoke loving words with tenderness and touched with reverence. He was sensitive and thoughtful. He saw the world as a measurable quantifiable place where emotions and things that couldn't be explained left him confused and daresay, inept. For a man who was as capable as he was that ineptitude was inexcusable. So, he ignored and avoided and pushed those kinds of things away to the detriment of himself. He had forgotten how to love, how to be kind, how to trust. It was all new to him again. Every emotion that surfaced, every feeling a new one, every experience was the first. He needed time to heal, time to learn, time to become whole again. She would give him time. He deserved that time. He deserved that kind of love. Whether he believed it or not. That was her promise to him.

Cate felt his hand touch her hair gently caressing the strands through his fingers. He was awake but lying quietly content to fondle her hair. She smiled into his shirt and placed a kiss on his chest. He no doubt was not going to work today, after losing his patient. He could lie in bed all day if he chose, and as much as she would love to do that, she however could not. She began to roll more to her side so she could kiss him before getting out of bed but he protested and held her firmly where she was.

"No, no, no, where do you think you're going, " he complained, his voice thick with sleep.

"I have to shower and go to work," she stated as he continued to hold onto her tightly in his arms.

"No. It's insanely too early for that, " he told her. "And you took a bath last night."

"Yes, but…"

"Yes, but nothing, " he said into her hair as he brought his stubble covered chin to the top of her head. "I want you to stay with me."

She peeked at the clock over his shoulder. It was 7:30. Since she had taken the bath last night, she could get away with just combing her hair and pulling it back before get dressed. God, his slacker tendencies were a bad influence on her. She relaxed into his side and hooked her leg up further along his thigh settling in to the comfort of his warmth.

"That's my girl, " he said happily, relaxing his hold on her but keeping her very close to him. He fell silent again and she almost thought that he fell back to sleep. His voice rumbled in the hollow of his chest. "What do you guys talk about when you meet together?"

"What?" she was surprised by his question and wasn't quite sure what he meant.

"When you sit with Cuddy and Cameron and Thirteen, what do you guys talk about?"

"Oh, " she said. "Nothing really, girls stuff."

"What is girl stuff?"

"Clothes, shoes, books and stuff like that, why, " she asked wondering where this curiosity was coming from. Then it dawned on her his expression when he saw them together and how he looked wierded out by it.

"Oh, just wondering, " he said innocently.

"Does it freak you out that I talk to them?" she figured why not just cut to the chase.

"No." It was a lie.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't think you were friends with any of them, " he said honestly.

"I been working closely with Cameron in the ER, Cuddy and I have talked for a bit and I like Thirteen, she's irreverent and reminds me of you, " she explained.

"Really?" he said moving his head to look into her face. "There's a lesbian version of me out there."

She chuckled. "She is not a lesbian… will you let it go?"

"Lesbians, bi-sexual females, women of all kinds, make me happy… I will never let it go, there's just too much fun to be had, " he argued. "But why does she remind you of me?"

"She doesn't take shit from anybody, she hides who she really is from the general public with humor and sarcasm, and she has good reason to. There's a lot of pain inside her and she has a tendency to act out in ways that are not good for her…"

"Alright, I get the picture…" he said sarcastically.

"Are you sure it doesn't bother you a little bit, " she said and held up her fingers in an inch.

She could ffel him roll his head side to side on the pillow contemplating. He sighed and said, "It kind makes me feel all oogy".

She twisted to rest her chin atop her hands on his chest. "Why?"

"I work with all of them, " he said. "I have history with two of them."

"We don't really talk about you," she told him. She wasn't really lying; she was more bending the truth a bit.

"I don't want them in my business, " he said plainly. She could understand that, that thought of sharing too much had crossed her mind as well. But, they were friends and friends shared.

"Question, " she said.

"Yeah, " he responded.

"Do you talk about me to Wilson?"

"Yeah, but that's different, " he declared.

"How? How is that different?" she asked.

"You don't work with him, he's not your boss, " he countered.

"No, he may not be my boss, but I do have to see him at work and socially, because he's your best friend. Besides, Cuddy is my boss too but she's a friend, " she insisted. "Is it just Cuddy that bothers you?"

"No, I loath them all equally, " he said.

She laughed, "You don't loath any of them."

"Oh but I do, " he said with a laugh.

He ran his hand along the length of her hair, letting hit fall through his fingers. He frowned and shook his head. "I guess I selfishly don't want to share you with anyone."

Cate smiled and move up to kiss him. "Well, you're going to have to get over it."

His laugh rumbled in his chest and he grabbed her and threw her back onto the mattress. He moved on top of her lacing his hands with hers behind her head. She gasped in surprise and let out a laugh as she struggled against him. He rested his weight onto her and she squealed as she found herself compressing into the mattress. "Am I going to have to get over it?" he demanded.

"You can't bully me, " she fought, chuckling, " I won't submit."

He rested almost all of his weight on her crushing her under him. She laughed the remainder of her breath out of her abdomen. "Am I going to have to get over it?" he taunted.

"I won't give in, " she reiterated in a strangled voice. He leaned forward to kiss her but she dodged his lips. He opened his mouth wide in shock at her boldness in the face of her captor and he went in for another stolen kiss. Giggling, she dodged him again to the other side. This time he got wise and brought his lips to her neck where his stubble scratched at her skin and his lips tickled her throat. She let out a gasp as he worked his way down the soft cording of her neck to her collar bone. He dipped his tongue in at the hollow of her throat before tracing another fiery path back up the other side of her neck to her ear. His hot breath burned in her ear as he whispered, "Do you submit?"

She shook her head , "No."

"Tsk, tsk, you're impudence must be punished." His tongue traced a path around her ear, up and over the curve to her earlobe where he pulled it between his teeth and sucked it into the scorching recesses of his mouth. She writhed against him futilely. She wasn't trying to get away from him anymore; she was trying to get closer. His mouth was driving her insane.

"Oh, God," she moaned.

"Yes, Cate, what can I do for you, " He bellowed in a deified voice.

She laughed. "Please tell this devil of a man to release me, I will promise to only tell about his remarkable sexual prowess and how large his penis is to all our friends."

He laughed loudly in her ear and it caused a momentary loosening of his grip as he collapsed against her in amused delight. She broke free of his grasp and scooted to the other side of the bed breathing heavily.

"You don't play fair, " he said rolling over onto his back.

"Neither do you, " she accused. He reached out for her but she bolted off the bed. "Ah, ah… no more touching. I have to get ready for work."

"Aww, but mom, " he whined.

Cate laughed and went about gathering her clothing from the closet to get dressed. She picked out a grey pencil skirt and a black silk blouse that she would put a cardigan over. She grabbed her new Christian Loubotain peeptoe slingbacks and a pair of underwear and a bra from the drawer.

"Umm, you might want to find a shirt with a high collar, " he suggested from his seated position on the edge of the bed.

She stopped before going into the bathroom. "Why?"

He had a sheepish grin on his face as he gestured with his hands to his own neck. "You have some… marks on your neck."

Cate gasped and quickly went to the mirror on the inside of the closet door. "Oh. My. God. GREG!"

"What?" he said innocently.

"I look like a freaking teenager, " she shrieked unintentionally, fingering the red beard burns on her tender skin. "I can't go to work looking like this."

"And my evil plot comes to fruition, " he said heaving himself out of bed with a groan.

"I'm serious, " she said looking at him desperately.

He hobbled over to her in his faded jammie pants and white t-shirt looking all rumpled and incredibly sexy. She closed her eyes irritatedly, because that's what got her into this mess in the first place. "Let me see, " he said placing his expert hands on her neck turning her to examine his handiwork. "They'll calm down in a little bit. Just don't touch them or put anything on them to further irritate them." He was all Dr. House, business as usual.

She frowned at him and he laughed at her. He looked almost pleased with himself.

"Don't you have a turtleneck sweater here?"

"No, I wore that last week, " she said bringing her clothes into the bathroom.

"Yeah, the black one, I washed it the other day, " he told her going to the laundry closet in the hallway.

Cate immediately came out of the other bathroom door into the hallway, "You _washed_ my black cashmere turtle neck?"

He paused and looked at her with a 'don't challenge me' face. "I read the label. Washed it by itself on gentle. And laid it flat to dry."

She eyed him dubiously. "Can I see it?"

He held it up for her to inspect. She glanced at him, remarkably impressed at his laundry skills. She lowered her eyes and pouted a little, chagrinned. "Ok. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He closed the bi-fold doors and limped back into the bathroom after her. "I may look like a slob, but you don't grow up around my father and not know how to properly wash, starch and iron, knife edge pleats in a pair of trousers." He lifted the toilet seat and peed. "I can do it; I just don't give a shit."

Cate rolled her eyes as she brushed her teeth. Well, that was a personal boundary that they didn't necessarily ever have to cross. She spit into the sink and turned to him and pointed her toothbrush at him as he flushed the toilet, leaving the seat up. "I draw the line at poop."

"One bathroom, two people, " he said shoving her out of the way so he could wash his hands. He opened the medicine chest and took out his prescription bottle shaking only one pill into his hand. He swallowed it and cupped some water in his hand to wash it down.

"Just one?" she inquired curiously rinsing off her toothbrush as he stood up.

He shrugged and then made a perplexed face himself. "Yeah, it feels not so bad this morning." He wiped his mouth with the towel by the sink and then smacked her ass with it before putting it back.

"Hey, " she cried as she picked up the brush to tie her hair back into a slick ponytail.

He waggled his eyebrows at her and left the bathroom to go make coffee. Cate finished dressing and put on her make-up. She could hear him having a conversation with Sexy Kitty as her fed her and checked her dressing. He was so funny with that cat and she decided that she'd make no effort to bring her back to her apartment since he seemed to have adopted her for himself. When she came out of the room, dressed in her turtleneck, skirt and fabulous shoes, she came through the living room in to the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter having a cup of coffee watching the cat eat on the floor by the window.

"Mmm, now shake you finger at me and say 'Gregory, that book was due over two weeks ago, you've been a very, very naughty boy', " he said coming up to her and slipping his hand around her waist.

She laughed as her kissed her neck again, this time underneath the top edge of her turtleneck in the soft spot by her ear. "Do I really look like a librarian?"

"All you need is the pointy glasses, " he said pulling back from her to hand her a cup of coffee.

"Hmm, I'll make a note of that, " she said taking a sip.

He leaned back against the counter and eyed her for a moment. "I want to go look at new mattresses this weekend."

She paused and regarded him for a second. "Okay. You want to buy a new mattress?"

"Yeah, my back has been bothering me a lot lately and I think it's time for a new bed, " he explained.

"How old is this one, " she asked taking out a yogurt from the fridge.

"Since I moved in, " he shrugged.

"Which is?"

"Fifteen or so, " he said rubbing his chin.

Cate nodded and dipped her spoon into her breakfast. "It's old enough and we do kind of sink into the center."

He nodded and drank his coffee.

She pulled the spoon from her mouth licking it backwards before saying, "I want you to think about something today while your home, doing nothing with the cat."

He looked at her and furrowed his brow."I'm not staying home today. Why would you think that?"

"Well, you lost your patient last night, I didn't think you'd be going in."

He shook his head. "I'm doing an autopsy at 10:00."

"Oh, " she said.

"I need to know what we missed."

She smiled. She should have known he would let it rest until he had his answer. "Ok. I still want you to consider something today though in your free time."

"What?"

"Thanksgiving is coming soon, and I want you to meet my dad, " she began. He eyed her warily from the counter and she bit her lip tentatively. "They don't necessarily have to coincide, but…"

He nodded and let out a sigh. He was not too keen on the idea, she knew he wouldn't be, but it meant a lot to her and she could she that he knew that too. He came up to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. "He's going to hate me."

She placed her hands on his t-shirted shoulders, "And you're going to hate him."

"Sounds like a blast, " he said cheerfully.


	37. Chapter 37: Conversation Piece 800

Sessions 37: Conversation Piece $800

Author's note: found this autopsy info at .

House scrubbed his hands with the sterile soap and brush over the basin in the morgue. Letting them drip dry, he held his hands up and moved over to the box that held the surgical gloves. He snapped on a pair and made his was over to the table where his patient's body lay. The music the coroner had playing in the background kind of set the tone for the autopsy of this woman whose name he honestly couldn't even remember. He knew she was twenty eight. Young, pretty, perfectly healthy until Sunday night when she was admitted to the ER with shortness of breath and a spiking fever. And now she was dead because they couldn't find out what was killing her in time. They had run all tox panels, Ct scans, MRI, lumbar punctures, tested for all infections. They had come up with nothing. Five of them and they couldn't find what was wrong. He always used to tell Chase, Cameron and Foreman that if they didn't find it before the person died, they'd find it autopsy. Well, here he was. The only one who really needed to know. The family didn't care anymore, they had signed over permission for the autopsy but all they knew or cared about now was that she was dead. The team seemed too affected by the fact that this was their first failure in six months. Their first real failure since Amber. He didn't tell Wilson that. He didn't think he ever would.

The coroner hovered around him having prepared the body for him earlier with the necessary protocol that he wasn't interested in. They had done this dance before and he had gotten used to House's methods a long time ago. He left him to take out the organs that he wanted to inspect and them he'd finish up with the necessary procedures of preparing the paperwork and body for delivery to the funeral home. House pulled back the drape over the body and picked up the scalpel. Placing his hand at the shoulder he began the large Y incision on the chest. Since his first days in med school, he had always thought it was fascinating to look inside the human body. He thought it was cool how everything had its own protective security system and how things systematically were organized to make sense in the natural rhythm of life.

Retracting the skin to expose the ribcage, he cracked open the chest exposing the heart and lungs which were his primary concern. Before disturbing the organs, he carefully cut open the pericardial sac to expose the heart and then the pulmonary artery where it exited the heart. He stuck his finger into the hole in the pulmonary artery and felt around for any thromboembolus to see if a blood clot dislodged from a vein somewhere else in the body and might have traveled through the heart to the pulmonary artery, lodged there, and caused sudden death. He found nothing so he removed the heart and weighed it. He followed suit with the lungs, one by one. He could already see the swelling from the pulmonary edema. He could feel the fluid in the lungs. He moved to the side dissecting table and removed the heart from the tray where he cleaned it off, to inspect the outside for any structural abnormalities they missed on the virtual scan. He found nothing of significance. It was inside that he found his answer. Mitral valve stenosis, the valve was damaged at the back rendering it difficult to see in any of the virtual scans. There was distinct evidence of rheumatic fever scaring. Her history had said that she had caught a cold while she was on vacation in Jamaica months ago and believed it was nothing as most people would. The strep bacteria settled into her weakened heart valve and proceeded to destroy it slowly until it couldn't sufficiently move her blood anymore causing it to back up into her lungs essentially drowning her.

He placed the organs back into the tray for the coroner to finish. It was so simple, yet there was nothing they could have done about it. Frustrated, he stripped of his gloves and threw them into the medical waste bin before picking up his cane that he had stored across the room from the exam table. He pulled off his skull cap and tossed it into the bin outside the door. Well, he had his answer. There was nothing that could have been done. They had done everything right. Why was it that all the answers to all his recent questions were leaving him unsatisfied?

Having changed back into his jeans, brown Dave Matthews t-shirt and black jacket, he put on his sneakers and headed up to Wilson's office. He was finishing with a patient as he approached his door. House gave the woman a thin frown as she smiled at him on her way past. Her skin was pale and had that tell-tale texture of chemo treatments. She probably had six months to a year and was no doubt thanking Jimmy for his ever so kind treatment of her. Wilson's patient's died all of the time and yet they thanked him for his unerring ability to make it an easy transition for them.

"Did you find out what it was?"

"Rheumatic fever, " he said coming into the office.

"Mitral valve stenosis?"

He sat heavily into the chair in front of the desk. He could feel the warmth from Wilson's patient and immediately got up to lie down on the sofa with is feet up. "Yup, boring huh?"

Wilson tipped his head back and forth. "Boring but deadly, if not caught early."

"You know, Hal plays this really depressing music down there when he does autopsies, " he said absently as he spun his hand over his head.

"Really?" Wilson regarded him from his file on his desk. "What was he playing?"

"Alanis Morissette Jagged Little Pill… Acoustic…" House said shaking his head.

"Isn't it ironic, " he said

"A little too ironic…" House finished.

"Is that what's got you in such a funk?"

House shook his head. "So she wants me to meet her dad."

"Uh oh, that sounds ominous…" Wilson cleared his throat, "I mean serious."

"Yeah, " House said. "He's a retired Philadelphia Police detective."

Wilson snorted a laugh. "Oh great. He's probably run a back ground check on you already."

"Yeah, too bad he couldn't warn us about your warrant, " House said with a laugh.

Wilson glared at him. "Hey, I'd like to forget about that whole…experience if you don't mind."

House hoisted his leg off the edge of the arm and sat up. "I guess it's inevitable. She's very close with him."

"That's a good thing, " Wilson told him.

House scratched at the back of his head. "Yeah, he's not short on the protective gene."

"You did save his daughter's life, " Wilson reminded him.

"True, there is that, " he said.

"When does she want you to meet him?"

He shrugged. "She told me to think about it today. She did mention Thanksgiving in the conversation."

"She wants you to get together for Thanksgiving, " he said.

House shook his head. "She said that the two don't necessarily have to go together."

Wilson chuckled. "That's what she said, what it means is you have to meet him either before or on actual Thanksgiving. Because if they're close, she won't not spend the holiday with him. And that means you're probably going to."

House frowned. "Kind of figured that." He tapped his cane on the floor. "I hate this kind of stuff."

Wilson shrugged. "It's a necessary evil. It's part of being in a relationship."

House grimaced. "I'd rather just sit around in my underwear all day like I do every year."

"But what are you going to do now that you're mom is alone this year?"

"Nothing. She'll probably go to my aunt's like she does every year. What are you going to do this year, " he asked leaving it open-ended for him to fill in whatever he felt comfortable with.

"Probably sit in my underwear all day, " he said with a laugh.

House nodded. "If I have to do Thanksgiving, I'm going to need back-up, you know."

Wilson shrugged. "We'll see."

"What time is it, " House asked looking around the room for a clock that wasn't there.

"Almost two, " Wilson said looking at his watch. "Why?"

"I've gotta go, " he said standing. "It's tea time."

Wilson shook his head. "They're not going to let you in, you know."

He shrugged gave him a waggle of the eyebrow. "We'll see about that."

"Hello, my biz-nitches, " House said cheerfully turning a chair around and straddling it between his thighs as he sat down at the table in between Cate and Cuddy, who disgustedly moved her chair away from him. He received an irritated sigh from Cameron and a sly smirk from Thirteen. Cate wore an amused smile but did nothing to either welcome him or show her irritation if she felt any. Instead she looked at his tea cup he'd placed on the table and flipped the tag from the teabag at him questioningly. She raised an eyebrow that clearly said 'you've got to be kidding me'. She knew he never drank tea. She saw through his little charade. Ignoring her speculative glance, he smiled brightly back at her in response and brought his attention to the rest of the ladies.

"House, why are you here?" Cuddy demanded. "Aren't you supposed to be in the clinic?"

"Yep, I needed a break, " he lied, as if he was actually in the clinic today. She eyed him like she wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. "So, girls, what are we talking about?"

Cate leaned forward. "My shoes, " she said excitedly. She stuck her well-formed leg out at him to show him the aforementioned footwear.

"Oh, you mean your stripper pumps, " he said admiring the shapeliness of her calf as it sloped to her trim ankle delicately into the spiked black high heels that left a little peek-a-boo hole for her toenails to show. He had to admit he liked them very much.

"No, if they were stripper pumps they'd be clear, " Thirteen said.

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of Cate's leg. "Good point."

"They're more like 1940's pin-up girl, " Thirteen added painting a very delectable picture in his mind. Long gams, high heels, and busty chest. Nice…

Cate tucked her foot back under her chair and rested her chin in her hand as she leaned on the table. "Pin-up girl, huh? I could live with that."

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Me too." She blushed immediately and that made him smile.

Cuddy scoffed from her chair beside him. "Those are not just any shoe, they're Christian Loubutains."

House drew his eye brows together_. As if that meant anything to him._ "Christian Who-Blew-Tom?"

"Loo – Boo –Tann, jackass, " she annunciated for him as if her were retarded.

He held his hands up. "_Excuse_ _me_. So what's so special about them, they're just shoes."

They all gasped as if he had cursed. Cameron rolled her eyes and looked at Cate. "Tell him how much they cost."

Cate closed her eyes and shook her head vehemently.

He looked at her. "What? How bad could they be?"

Cameron smirked. "They're $800."

He choked on his tea. "What?" Cate's eyes went wide at Cameron. "That's insane."

Cameron clucked her tongue at him and Cate smiled sheepishly. "They're Christian Loubutain's. He's the hottest shoe designer since Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo."

Thirteen chuckled. "Don't tell me you didn't notice how fabulous they look."

"So?" he said non-impressed. No shoe was worth $800. Thirteen merely chuckled at him from behind her teacup.

"Oprah gave away a pair of Loubutains to every person in her audience, " Cameron announced as if that made all the difference in the world.

Cuddy scoffed. "What _Sex and the City_ did for Manolo's and Jimmy Choo's, Oprah did for Loubutain's, " she explained this with such a gravity that if anyone was listening they'd think she was talking about global warming.

Suddenly he was tickled funny about the entire conversation. It was utterly ludicrous. Rational intelligent women paying almost a thousand dollars for a pair of shoes that looked as painful as putting your toes in a vice. He laughed out loud. "Man-hole-o, Jimmy Chew, Who-blew-Tom… Is it me or do these homo's names sound like fellatio?"

Cate and Thirteen bust out laughing and Cuddy and Cameron crossed their arms and plastered their pissy faces on.

"Don't laugh at him, " Cameron reprimanded. "It only encourages him."

"And makes him believe that he's actually funny, " Cuddy added.

Thirteen laughed. "He is funny."

House raised his hand to her. "Thank you. See the lesbian likes me."

"Fuck you, House." Thirteen shot back.

Cuddy turned to him pointedly. "Why are you here?"

He shrugged holding his hands up innocently. "I'm just sitting with all my girls, talking."

Cameron eyed him suspiciously. "And what do you want?"

"Nothing, " he replied innocently.

"Riiighhht, " Cuddy disagreed.

Cate sat in her chair observing the whole situation. She still said nothing, just sat with her arms crossed casually over her chest. He was getting no back up from her. He couldn't tell if she was irritated or if she was enjoying his little show. After their little conversation this morning, he was sure if she was upset that he was broaching her territory. Not that he really cared, this was an experiment that he was more curious about, than anything else.

"Why do you automatically assume I have an agenda?" he said.

Cameron nearly choked on her coffee. "Because you always have an agenda."

Cuddy nailed him with a glare. "And you don't sit and talk unless it's to expound about your own delusions of grandeur."

"And you don't drink tea, " Cate said with a smirk.

"So what gives, " Thirteen asked.

House looked at all of them with a curious expression. "I'm not allowed to want to sit and girl-talk?"

All four responded, including Cate, "No."

"You either have to be 1) A girl or…" Cameron said.

"2) Gay, " Cuddy finished.

"So because I'm a guy and not gay, you gals don't want to talk to me?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it, " Cameron said.

He frowned. So they didn't want him in their little girl-club? That actually bothered him.

Cate smiled sympathetically and touched her hand to his cheek. "Aww, sweetie, the rest of the girls don't want to play with you."

He pursed his lips. And hung his head defeated. "Fine. Do your girl thing. I'll just take my bat and balls and go." He stood and grabbed his tea cup in his left hand resting on his cane. He shook his head. "This is sex discrimination, I'll have you know."

"I'm sure your ego will survive, " Cuddy said.

"And you, " he turned to Cate, "I'm so disappointed, where is your loyalty?" he asked with mock-wounded eyes.

Cate shrugged. "I have dual-loyalties, call me Switzerland."

"Fine. Be that way." House said in a bitchy tone. "I'll take my sorry, but sexy, ass out of here so you can continue your conversation about blowing tom and man holes. Keep me posted if anything more interesting comes up, sweetie" he said, pointing at Cate.

They all shook their heads at him as he limped his way out of the cafeteria. He could go back to his office and watch _General Hospital_ uninterrupted in peace and quiet for once. Half way out, he looked at the paper tea cup in his hand. Ugh, why did he get mint tea? Spying a trash can, he pitched it in. He hated mint tea. _Well, that was about as productive as pissing in a windstorm._


	38. Chapter 38: Goldilocks

Sessions 38: Goldilocks

House threw himself against the mattress and bounced once, then twice to determine the spring action on the pillow top. He didn't go very far. It was hard. Not enough bounce. Discouraged, he sat up. No this one wouldn't do either. He turned his head to look at Cate who lay back gently like she was making snow angel in the sunshine. She looked at him, saw his expression and sighed frustratedly.

"I told you the one over there was good, " she said pointing back in the direction of the twentieth mattress they tried.

He shook his head. "Nah, I think it was the one over there with the foam thingy on top," he said pointing his cane back in the direction they'd come from.

She got up from the bed and held her hand out to pull him up. "Well, if you didn't scare the poor kid away, maybe he would have been able to keep track of the ones you liked."

House grumbled and rolled his eyes taking her outstretched hand. "The kid is an idiot. He gets a lousy eight bucks and hour to stand around look like he knows something."

"Yes but you didn't have to say that he was created by unnatural union of two siblings and that's why he was a little slow on the uptake, because that's just rude."

"Whatever, I bet you I'm not far from the truth."

"Anyway, we have to narrow it down sometime this year to at least two that you like, " she said looking around.

He stood up and leaned on his cane looking around. An idea popped into his head. "Why don't we look at king sized beds? There's more room, " he said punctuating his words with an excited wiggle of his eyebrows. She chuckled at him and wrapped her arms around his free arm hugging him to her. Of course she was having fun. He was bored ten beds ago and this was his stupid idea. He wasn't finding anything he liked.

"Ok, let's go see, " she said excitedly bringing him over to an extra large mattress further down the row. "Pillow top, soft, comfy cozy…" she sat on the edge and ran her hand along the soft mattress covering. She patted it inviting him to try it out.

House contemplated the look of the mattress. It was big to be sure. It had the pillow top, which he seemed to like more and more. So, he turned and flopped down on his back. He bounced two times and came to a cradled stop. He looked around and scooched himself up a little higher, like he was actually lying in bed. He crossed his feet at the ankles and placed his hands on his belly. It was comfortable. It felt nice on his back. This one could be a possibility.

Cate lay down beside him and wiggled herself up to where she would be if she were actually sleeping. "This is nice, " she said moving her arms and legs around. "There's a lot of room."

House rolled onto his side to look at her and was immediately disappointed. She was far away. Really far away. He reached his hand out to her and just grazed the elbow of her cream colored down jacket with his finger tips. She giggled and rolled onto her side to face him smiling at him expectantly. He shook his head against his folded arm as a pillow. "This will never work, " he said.

She pouted a little as she snuggled in deeper and he laughed. "I'd have to take a subway to touch you. I want you much closer than that, " he said reaching out again to pull her to him. She rolled in the other direction and off the bed wagging her finger at him.

"Ah, ah, no touching in the bed store, " she admonished with a saucy turn to look at another style. "If you were to pick a king size you'd have to get a new frame and headboard and then that's a whole new expedition."

He climbed out of the bed and limped slowly behind her considering what she said. She was right. His bed was a queen size antique frame like most of the rest of his furniture in his apartment. If he couldn't pick out a mattress, how was he going to be able to make a decision on a new headboard? "I don't even think a king sized bed would fit in the room, now that you mention it." He ran his hand over the back of his neck. Right now he was so confused he couldn't even think straight. He had no idea which one he wanted. None of them seemed right.

She turned around and doubled back down the aisle to him. "Well, all of these over here are king sized, are you sure you don't want a big one?"

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. He looked down into her face and whispered, "I want to feel you right next to me. I don't want to have to send out a search party for you when I want to touch you."

Her pupils dilated and she the tip of her tongue came out to moisten her lips, "Ok, I think the twin sized mattresses are over there." She pointed over his shoulder to the back corner of the store.

He chuckled and placed a kiss on her lips. "You're a smartass."

She placed her hands on the arm of his motorcycle jacket. "That's why you like me, " she said and then patted his arm. "Was there any one that you actually like enough to consider?" _Ah, ever the shopper._ Her focus was admirable.

"I guess, " he said releasing her and moving back in the direction of the mattress he thought might work. They came to one that had a pillow-top with a temperpedic fill that was supposed to offer support but was also soft and comfortable. He lay back down on it and spread out like she had done, making snow angels. She chuckled and climbed in next to him lying on her side. She tucked her hand under her cheek and looked at him. He sighed and rolled to his side doing the same thing.

"What's the matter, " she asked.

"I don't know, " he said. "None of them are the same."

"What do you mean, the same?"

"None of them are as nice as your bed, " he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "My bed?"

"Yeah, yours is ridiculously comfortable, " he said.

She smiled. "It's more than just the mattress you know."

"I know, " he muttered, "It's all the pillows and the blankets. I've just never slept as good as I've slept in your bed."

She reached her hand out and laced her fingers in his. She held his gaze for a minute before speaking. "There is one way…well there's actually two ways that are possible solutions to that problem."

"Two ways?"

"One is to buy the exact same kind of mattress, we could look it up, I'm sure I still have the paper work…"

"And the other?"

She sighed and continued to hold his gaze biting the corner of her lip. "We could move my bed to your apartment?"

House swallowed the dry lump that had mysteriously lodged in his throat and drew his eyebrows together staring back at her. "That is an option…" That was exactly the option that Wilson said he had wanted in the first place. Was he right? Is that what he really wanted? Was that why none of these other mattress worked, none of them were just right? It had to be. It had to be because he really wanted her bed at his place. Which really meant that he wanted her to move in with him.

She scrambled to the edge of the bed and sat with her feet on the floor. "Never mind, it was a stupid suggestion."

"Hey, " he said hoisting himself awkwardly up and over to her. "It's not stupid." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "It's not a stupid idea."

She shook her head and looked at him completely regretting what she had suggested. "I shouldn't have said that. It's all too soon, you've never even said anything about…I don't want to rush you into anything that your not ready for. Just forget I said it."

"Will you stop… " he said trying to get her to look at him. "You're not rushing me, in fact you're actually a little quicker on the uptake than I am. I didn't even realize that I've been thinking about this since I came back from my father's funeral."

"We shouldn't be having this conversation in the furniture store, " she said standing and placing her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, like she did when she was frustrated or nervous. He suspected that it was the latter. Because he was feeling the same way.

"I know this is a big step, but, I think that's what I want, " he said pulling her close to him in between his thighs. She came in reluctantly and removed her hands to place them on his shoulders.

"You have to more than _think_, you have to _know_, " she said.

"Wilson says that's what I want, " he said.

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, well then it _must_ be true."

He tilted his head at her sarcasm. "He generally tends to be a pretty good translator for my convoluted psyche, and he's usually pretty right."

"But that doesn't mean that he is right. It doesn't mean that we're ready for this, " she said trying to be the voice of reason.

"Technically no, but what I do know is that I love you and I want you by me each and every night which would imply that I want you there everyday also."

"Don't try and rationalize this because it isn't rational to want to live with someone you've only been seeing for about six weeks."

"Stacey moved in after only a week, "

"Oh, and look how great that worked out, " she said with unmistakable derision.

"That had a little bit more to do with her hacking half my thigh off than it did with any compatibility issues, " he argued and then added cheerfully, "Wilson moved in with Amber after four weeks."

"Amber's dead, " she said.

He rolled his eyes. "It's not like he killed her, " he said, "Did you and I switch personalities sometime last night and nobody told us?"

"I'm just trying to be cautious, I mean this is the first time we're actually talking about this, " she disputed.

"Who cares? Isn't what I want more important? You would move in if you loved me" said House as he put on his cutest, puppy dog eyes, as if that would make Cate just suddenly decide to grab her bags and dump her shit around his place.

She laughed and smacked his shoulder. "Don't do that to me, that's not fair and you know it."

He let go of her and she stepped back allowing him room to stand up. He laced his fingers in hers and they moved through the store subconsciously abandoning the search for a mattress for the time being.

"And besides, how can I move in if you don't even have a dining room table, " she said.

He snorted. "You don't even have a dining room table."

"I have two room apartment, that has no room for a table, " she argued.

"I have a piano, no room for a table, " he argued. "Besides, what would we need a dining room for anyway? We either eat at work, or in front of the TV."

"I'd like to say… have people over sometime, " she suggested.

He made a face. "People? Over? Why would we do that?"

"Because it could be, I don't know, fun maybe," she said. "We could actually have Wilson or Cuddy over to eat like adults."

He gasped. "Blasphemer… I will not go quietly into the adult night."

"No, but you want me to come play sleepover for a really, really, long time, " she said.

House meandered through the furniture department and looked around. "This place is a fucking maze, they trap you in here so you have to go through all of the departments before you can get out."

Ironically they were passing through the dining section of the store. And he made a face. "So if I make a commitment to the dining table, you'll move it?"

A salesman approached them like fresh meat in shark infested waters and House growled frustratedly.

"Can I help you folks, " he asked good-naturedly.

"We're having a conversation here, does it look like I want your help yet?" he snapped.

Cate placed her hand on his arm to shut him up. "We'll let you know if we have any questions, " she said sweetly to appease the man. He nodded and backed off.

She sat down at one of the tables and lifted her head to him. "Sit down, I want to talk."

He took a deep breath and pulled out one of the ornate chairs that she happened to have decided to sit in. He looked at the set and thought briefly how tacky this one was before bringing his attention back to her.

"Do you really want me to move in with you?" she asked seriously.

He did. He didn't know why but he did. "Yes."

She smiled slowly and rested her head on her hand and tapped her finger on the flat surface of the table. "You know that means that all my stuff comes too, my clothes, my shoes, my pictures, everything…"

"Of course, I'm not an idiot, " he said.

"It also means that we'll be a real couple and that we'll do holidays together and meet each other's parents, even though you've been avoiding giving me an answer about that since I brought it up yesterday morning, " she said with a critical look.

He rolled his eyes looking away from her. He didn't want to meet her dad. He was trying to avoid that for as long as he could get away with it. "Yeah, I know. I've done this before."

"Yes, one time before, " she reminded him. "And that was a huge deal."

"Yes, and how many times have you done this?" he asked her pointedly.

She stared at him. "Twice."

He raised an eyebrow at her curiously. "Twice?"

"Once during med school and once in my early thirties, " she explained.

"Obviously they didn't work out so well either, " he said.

"One turned out to be gay and the other cheated on me, " she said with a roll of her eyes.

He laughed. "Gay? I'm sure that's a good story. And anyone who'd cheat on you is a stupid asshole."

She chuckled and placed her hand on his. "I love you. I would do this in a heartbeat. I just want to make sure they guy who avoids change like it might actually kill him really truly wants to make such a huge change in his life."

He took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. "The night I let you wear my Who t-shirt to bed sealed my fate. I've been in love with you and haven't wanted you out of my sight ever since. Does that make me an irrational, completely ridiculous romantic idiot? Probably yes. And everyone is going to say that the four horsemen of the apocalypse and end of days are coming. But I don't care. Besides, I stole your cat, she lives with me already and you practically live there anyway. Let's just make it official and bring your bed over to my place and call it ours."

She smiled brightly at him and then her eyes started to well up with tears. He shook his head and pulled her too him with a chuckle. _Here she goes again_."No, no, don't start crying in the store…" She sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck letting out a sniffle. He held her and stroked her hair as she cried and laughed at her own sappiness. "So is that a yes?"

She nodded and pulled back to look at him. She placed both of her chilly hands on each side of his face and kissed him soundly. "I love you so much."

"I know, " he said looking into her red rimmed eyes. She was so beautiful and she made him so incredibly… happy.

She dropped her voice and whispered in his ear, "You know this means you're going to have to have sex with me."

He laughed as he felt a little tingle stir in his pants at her audacious demand. "Oh alright, if I have to…" he said exaggeratedly.

"Because you know, what if we don't like it, " she declared gravely.

He smirked shyly and then turned to look at her. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

"Well, you never know, " she argued with a saucy little grin.

"Shut up and get off my lap before I throw you up on this ugly ass table and fuck you right here, " he growled giving her a shove off his thigh with his hands. Her ass on his lap was doing crazier things to him than her dilated pupils and sultry voice.

She bit her lip and let out a sexy little whimper before doing as she was told. He let out a huge breath and his hands shook as he popped two Vicodin to calm himself. This woman drove him to the brink of insanity with just a simple look. The anticipation of having sex with her nearly undid him. He watched her sashay over to the salesman. "We need a dining room table that will fit in a small area but can extend to be large enough to accommodate six to eight people. Dark wood classic lines, very, very sturdy," she tossed a look at him over her shoulder and his mouth went dry. "Price is negotiable."

House had to remain seated where he was to regain control over his raging… faculties. She was the sexiest woman he'd ever known. And she as now his live-in girlfriend. That little turn of events excited him like he couldn't believe.


	39. Chapter 39: Games

Sessions 39: Games

House sat down heavily on his sofa and took a long sip of his beer as Wilson dragged the ottoman to the end chair closer to the coffee table. Cate was in the kitchen making noise getting plates and silverware. He reached into the take out bag from Ming's and pulled out the five quarts of Chinese food they had ordered.

"Babe, there's already chopstick in here, we don't need any forks, " he called loudly to her over the college football game playing on TV. "Or plates for that matter. We'll eat from the containers."

"Babe?" Wilson repeated disbelieving his own ears. "Did something short circuit your brain when you underwent the deep brain stimulation, because I don't know who you are anymore?"

"What?" he said opening up the container of General Tso's Chicken taking out a piece with his fingers and popping it into his mouth. "Is my Jimmy-Bear jealous?"

"Yes, we need plates, " Wilson called to her. "We're sharing… and you're a love sick puppy dog. Babe…I've never heard you use endearments. "

"I am not a love sick puppy dog…" he protested.

Wilson shook his head opening up the Fried Rice and Beef and Broccoli. "Honestly, I never thought I'd see the day."

"Never thought you'd see what day, " Cate said coming into the living room with a stack of plates and silverware wearing a smirk.

"The day that House actually succumbed to being a human being with real _feelings_, instead of a pod-person mutated in a capsule to resemble what we think is a human being, " Wilson said sipping his own beer.

Cate giggled as she sat down next to House. "Oh, don't let that fool you, it's all smoke and mirrors."

"Hey, " House objected. "That's just mean…"

Wilson snorted. "Oh please… you dish it out like chowder on the buffet line at a homeless shelter but you can't take it?"

Cate laughed handing him a plate. "They dish because their skin isn't thick enough to take it."

"For that, you get none of my Cantonese wontons in hot peanut sauce, " House told her taking away the container with her favorite dish before she could grab one.

She pouted her red lips at him and he turned his head to not look at her. "Oh, please, babe. You know I love them?"

"Nope, " he said. "You took his side. You were mean."

She bat her lovely eyelashes at him and sulked leaning into him like a spoiled child. He narrowed his eyes at her and tried to resist her temptation. She sniffled flawlessly and he couldn't help himself. He gave in feeding her one with his chopstick. He was rewarded with a squeal of delight and a peanutty kiss on the cheek from her full mouth.

Wilson gagged from his end of the small table. "Sucker."

"If you pout maybe he'll give you one too, " she cooed wiping her mouth with a paper towel and a giggle. She reached out and wiped his cheek as well.

They dished out their food onto the plates, passing the containers around equally taking enough food to feed a third world country. Cate sat back on the sofa cushions and tucked her bare feet under his thigh. House moved to tuck them in further and then leaned forward over the table to eat as did Wilson.

"I can not wait for you to get the table, " Wilson said. "Do you know how long I've been telling him how difficult it is to eat when your food's in your lap?"

House laughed and took a sip of beer. "I only got the table because she said we could have sex on it. I'm still gonna eat in front of the TV."

"Greg!" Cate cried through a mouthful of food.

"Yeah, Greg, " Wilson mocked. "Besides that would required some leverage you don't necessarily have."

"Not if I'm on the table and she's on top, " he relayed. Wilson nodded in affirmation.

"Greg!, " she shrieked. "It's a table where people are supposed to eat, we're not having sex on it!"

House rolled his eyes as if to say 'we'll see about that' and she kicked him in the ribs, silently telling him to shut up with her eyes, that he was giving away their secret. He chuckled and winked at her while Wilson was busy looking at his food. She smiled flirtatiously back at him.

"Well, I'm glad that you're moving in, " Wilson said. "Because I'm tired of hearing about this bed and how h…"

"Oh, come on we've only had a few conversations about it, " House interrupted.

"Like five since you decided you needed her bed, " Wilson retorted.

"You told Wilson you wanted my bed?" Cate said looking at him curiously.

House glared at Wilson. "No. I complained about how my back was bothering me."

"And how comfortable her bed was, " Wilson added.

"I see, " she said drawing it out. "So, you discussed the possibility of me moving in with Wilson before you discussed it with me?"

"No, " he said stabbing Wilson with his invisible daggers from his eyes. Squirrelly son of a bitch…

Wilson held his hands up. "In all fairness_, I said_ that he wanted your bed_. I said_ that he might want you to move in. He was completely oblivious to the whole concept until I brought it up. And he was completely oblivious afterward too."

Cate frowned and eyed both of them speculatively. "I'm sure that's some version of the truth."

"He rambles, half the time I don't even listen to what he says, " House said in his defense.

"That is true, " Wilson said.

"I honestly didn't even consider it until you brought it up today in the store, " he told her. It really wasn't far from the truth. Wilson might have mentioned something like that but, he was more caught up in finding a solution to how he was going to find a bed _like_ hers rather than actually ask her to _bring_ her bed _with_ her. "So it was like I was talking about it for the first time… with you."

She shook her head and pointed a piece of broccoli at him with her chopstick. "See now you have no room to get all oogy about me talking to Cameron and Cuddy about us, because you clearly talk about stuff with Wilson that crosses into the oogy territory."

Wilson laughed. "Did you really give her shit about that?"

He rolled his eyes. "What? I don't want Cuddy and Cameron knowing about my sex life or whether or not I put the seat down on the toilet."

"Which he doesn't by the way, " Wilson said to Cate. "So don't pee in the middle of the night without checking, " he warned her.

Cate scoffed and nodded following his meaning with a roll of her eyes. "So it's not okay for Cuddy and Cameron to know but, it's okay if Thirteen knows?"

He gave her his trademark _duh-face_. "That just makes me the stud of the DDX table."

Wilson choked on a piece of fried rice. And Cate chuckled at his mock-honesty.

"Thirteen is like one of the guys, " House explained. "The other two, they want me."

Wilson laughed. "No. You think they want you but in reality they both despise you."

"Despise is a little harsh, don't you think, " House said.

"Ok, detest, " he offered.

"I think its more tolerate, " Cate said.

"No more wontons for you, " he said pointing his chopstick at her. She smiled at him and stuck her tongue out. "Guys talk to their guy friends about sex, " he added.

"So do women, " she pointed out.

"But they also talk to their guy friends about issues with their women, " House said.

"So do women, " she repeated. "It's called friendship." She looked to Wilson for confirmation.

"Yes, House, in real big boy relationships, this is how it works."

House rolled his eyes. "I understand that, I don't have to like it."

"You have to accept it, because when you don't like something you try and change it, " Wilson said.

"I'm not going to try and change it," he objected.

Cate laughed. "Oh, oh, what do you call that little impromptu, visit the other day?"

He grinned an embarrassed little smirk. _She'd called him out. _"I was curious, " he lied.

"What did you do?" Wilson demanded.

"He dropped by on our coffee break…with tea, " Cate told him.

"Tea? " Wilson echoed.

"Yes, and proceeded to talk to us about my shoes, " Cate relayed.

"Your shoes?"

"Yes, her $800 stripper pumps made by a homo with a blow job for a last name. How ridiculous is that?"

"I told you that's what they talk about, but no, you had to go in there like a jackass and find out for yourself, " Wilson shook his head ashamed.

Cate grit her teeth and let out a frustrated little groan at him as she nudged him with her toe. "You should listen to him when he talks. If you did, you might actually learn something."

"Who are you saying that to who's not me?" he said sarcastically. "If I have to learn, I learn by doing."

"Yeah, well what'd you learn from crashing our coffee break, " she asked and then finished the last of her rice.

"That what you girls talk about is really boring, " he said getting an 'I told you so nod' from Wilson. "And that smart intelligent women spend a hell of a lot of money on shoes which is asinine." Wilson continued to bob his head, confirming his theory.

"Are you gonna waste more time trying to find out what they talk about, " Wilson inquired.

"Hell, no. It's not worth the effort and I hate tea, " House stated.

Once they had finished eating, Cate and Wilson cleaned up the left-over food putting it in the refrigerator for later. She decided to rinse the plates and sent Wilson back into the living room with two beers. House was setting up the Xbox for their Soulcalibur IV tournament.

Wilson flopped into the end chair and then decided to pull of his sweatshirt. "Why is it so fucking hot in here? I'm about to stroke out."

House laughed because he had already gotten used to wearing just a t-shirt and no socks because of the heat. "Because Princess in there has Reynaud's and refuses to wear socks around the house."

"Reynaud's? Hmm, " he murmured settling back into his chair sans sweatshirt with his beer and controller.

"Yeah, it's a left over from her episode at the South Pole, " House explained.

"Well, if that's all she took away from it, than that's a good thing, " he said with a frown that told House his friend was thinking about Amber.

House smiled and decided to make a joke out of it, "Yeah, well she also got me out of the deal."

"True, " Wilson said tipping his bottle at him in a toast.

House reciprocated and turned on the Xbox. "Let's go, Ivy, you have your ass waiting to be handed to you, " he called to the kitchen.

Wilson scoffed. "She plays as Ivy?"

"Nothing but tits and ass, " House said appreciatively as she came in carrying her beer.

"That's right, " she smack-talked,. "The better to distract you with." He smacked her ass and held his hand there for a second copping a feel before she sat down.

"Please, there's children in the room, " Wilson said covering his eyes.

"Bring it on Big Daddy, bring it on, " she taunted grabbing her controller and settling in for battle.

"So are you good, or do you just talk a good game, " Wilson bit her lure.

"Oh, I spent ten months on a polar ice cap with nothing to do but research and play Xbox, how do you think I am?"

House shrugged. "What can I say? It's a match made in Heaven."

Wilson snorted and leaned forward ready to engage. "Yeah, except you don't believe in Heaven and I get to play as Kilik."

"You can have your candy ass Kilik, you know I only want to be Nightmare, " he challenged.

They played rock, paper, scissors to determine who would battle first. And it turned out that House and Cate were to face off first. They were going to go five rounds and the winner would fight Wilson.

"Good God, she looks like a stripper form the planet Amazon, " Wilson said when Cate selected her character. "I haven't played this version yet."

"You gotta give it to the boys in software development, living in Mom's basement makes for a rich fantasy life, " House said selecting his colossal horned monster.

"So what's your excuse, " Wilson asked taking a long drag on his beer.

"Living alone for the last eight years, " he answered without skipping a beat. "But now I have my very own Ivy at my beck and call."

"In your dreams, " Cate said. She was in competition mode, all fuzzy cuteness was gone. That was his cue to start the battle. The fought hard, each combating fierce melee attacks on the other, pummeling their respective characters to a pulp. He won two rounds and she won two rounds. They readied for their final fight.

"I'm so gonna kick your ass, " Cate said vehemently.

"Let's go, put your money where your tits are," he taunted her.

Wilson watched in amazement at the two hurled slur after slur at each other. It was close fight. Both sustaining hits and draining their lifeline. But, with one well placed attack, Cate pushed him off the edge of the arena and won. She stood up and raised her hands letting out a triumphant cheer.

"Woo..Ivy takes all…"

House bent his head in deference conceding his defeat. "You are the master."

She bent and took his face between her hands kissing him. "I know. You love me. I have to pee first, then I'm coming back to kick your ass, " she challenged Wilson before skirting out of the room.

Wilson stared at him with his mouth agape in horror.

"What?" House asked confused at his reaction to her win.

"You let her win?" he accused.

"What? Noooo. She kicked my ass off the thing. You saw it, " he defended himself.

"No." He sat up right and peered at him with disbelieving eyes. "You let her, so she would win."

He shook his head. "I did not."

Wilson laughed incredulously. "I saw you – you let go of the buttons!"

House felt the corners of his eyes crinkle. "No…"

"You poser, " he charged. "You didn't want her to lose because she gets upset when she doesn't win?!"

House started to smile and he continued to shake his head. "No. Honestly that time she won for real…"

"Ah, ha, " he jumped at him. "So you admit it."

"No…"

"Admit it, admit it, admit it, " he repeated.

House hated when he used his own words against him. "Okay, fine…Sometimes I do let her win… you saw her, she's very competitive."

"Oh. My. God." Wilson exclaimed. "You have cheapened the code of the brotherhood and now give it to me. You have to turn in your Man card." He held his hand out to him and wiggled his fingers, like he was actually going to turn it over.

"Oh, please, like you wouldn't have done the same thing for Amber, if the situation were reversed."

"Yeah, except she would have killed me for real, " he said. "I can't believe you!"

"Shh, here she comes, " he said looking nonchalant.

Cate came back to sit on the sofa. "Are you ready fro your ass whupping?"

"Bring it on little girl, " he said accepting her challenge.

He selected Kilik and she remained Ivy. They chose the fire arena for its ominous undertones. They skirmished fiercely. Hitting, punching, kicking, slicing and stabbing each other into oblivion. House thought they might actually go to real blows when Cate lost the third round in a row.

Shit suddenly hit menu and Wilson practically vaulted out of his chair. "What are you doing?"

"Wait, I have to change my outfit, " she said innocently, cycling through Ivy's costumes.

"What?! You can't change your outfit in the middle of a battle?!" Wilson objected looking to House for some back up.

House lounged lazily against the leather of the couch cradling his beer between his hands on his stomach. He shook his head. "There's nothing I can do. I almost had an aneurysm the first time she pulled it on me."

Cate giggled devilishly and selected her skimpiest of outfits. He knew she would choose the one that was few scraps of fabric pulled tightly over Ivy's extra-large endowments held together only by bands of bondage straps. "I will distract you with my bare ass and giggling boobs, you will be no match for me."

Wilson looked incredulously at House and he could only shrug in amused mirth.

"Oh, this is pathetic, " he complained. "You're desperate because you know that if I win the next battle it's done. You're toast."

House watched them bunker down for the remaining battle. Cate's eyes were fiercely focused on the screen and he had never seen Wilson so deranged. The fight ensued. Cate started off strong, spin kicking repeatedly to push Wilson back towards the edge but he regained footing and was able to hammer punch her down a few times to inflict some serious damage. He was about to deliver the final death blow when his cell phone started to ring.

"NO!" Cate yelled when he hit pause to check to see who it was.

"I have to take this, " he said.

"What?! You can't just take a phone call in the middle, " she screamed at him.

"If you can change your clothes, I can take a phone call, " he tossed back at her and flipped open his phone.

Cate turned to House incensed. "He can't just do that."

House smirked. "He did."

She scoffed and sat for a minute stewing. And then suddenly she reached over and unpaused the game from his controller.

"Hey, " Wilson objected. "Wait…"

"Oh no she didn't, " House laughed hysterically from the couch. In two seconds, she drop kicked his ass over the edge and won the battle.

"That is so not right, " Wilson accused her and then said into the phone, "No, no, no, you're not interrupting anything…" He got up form his chair and moved into the kitchen.

House laughed until his stomach hurt and sat up to take Cate into his arms. He leaned over her kissing her neck and bending her back down on the cushions so he was on top of her. She laughed underneath him and kissed him back.

"You dirty little cheater, " he said against her lips. "I'm so hot for you right now."

She giggled against his lips and then turned her head. "Shh, listen…"

"What?" he said going silent.

"Yeah… sure… we could do breakfast tomorrow morning…That'd be nice…"

House looked at her. "Who's he talking to?"

"Shh… I think it's Cuddy, " she whispered.

"What? Again?"

"Shhh…" she hushed him forcefully.

"No… you're really not bothering me… We're just playing video games…"

"Are you kidding me, " he whispered back. "What does that shrieking harpy want from him at ten o'clock at night?"

"Obviously to ask him to go to breakfast, " Cate said.

"What the hell is that all about, all of a sudden, " he said sitting up. "That's fucking weird."

"I think she likes him, " Cate said sitting up and brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Gaaa… has she said that?" He took a long sip of his beer and chased it with two Vicodin.

"No, it's just intuition, " she explained. "You're going to eat the lining of your stomach away, you know."

He rolled his eyes, "I had it transplanted two years ago… please, I don't need to hear it from you too."

She ran her hand over the back of his head and smiled apologetically. "He's coming back."

"You are soooo dead, I can't believe you cheated like that, " Wilson said hand House and Cate a fresh beer and situating himself back in his chair with is own drink.

"So, Jimmy, making breakfast plans, " House inquired loudly.

"House, " Cate smacked him on the shoulder.

"What? I'm not gonna wait for him to let it slip out that he's having breakfast with Cuddy again tomorrow, " he said to her as much as was to Wilson.

"Yes, Cuddy and I are having breakfast tomorrow, " he said resignedly.

"Want company?" House jovially invited them to tag along.

"Greg, " Cate hit him again.

"Stop hitting me, " he protested.

"If he wanted us to come along he'd have asked."

Wilson laughed. "If you guys want to come you're more than welcome to. We're meeting at the Princeton Diner on Rt.1. At ten. Are you going to be able to be up that early?"

House took a swig of his new cold beer. "It may be the butt crack of dawn but, we wouldn't miss it for the world." Cate eyed him dubiously and Wilson shook his head. The game was afoot.


	40. Chapter 40: Milestone

Sessions 40: Milestone

Cate sat in the passenger seat of her Land Rover and watched House as he drove them to meet Wilson and Cuddy for breakfast at the dinner the next morning. She silently admired his profile as he focused intently on the road ahead of them. His hair was still a little damp from his shower but had its messy 'I just ran a towel over my head' look. His scruff was quite full since it was the weekend and that meant a razor wasn't to be touched at anytime in the near future. His blue eyes glimmered like they were sapphires in the sunshine and she smiled at how the sexy crinkles around his eyes made her heart flutter. She reached her hand out and touched the back of his head running her fingers down to the soft spot behind his ear that smelled like her coconut shampoo and his own manly scent that was unmistakably him.

He flicked his eyes at her and the corner of his mouth tugged into that shy little smile he got when he was being watched. "What are you doing, " he asked.

She smiled back at him playfully and said, "Just falling a little bit more in love with you, that's all."

His smiled deepened into a full blown embarrassed grin. "Oh, yeah? How is that?"

"My mother used to say that sometimes, she would watch my dad do the most mundane things and she'd look at him and recall how beautiful his eyes were or how his hair felt on her cheek or how his strong hands looked when he worked and she said she used to fall in love with him all over again even after twenty years of marriage, " Cate said wistfully remembering her mother. One of the things that she loved most about her mom was her power to find the beauty in the smallest things in life, to seek out the positive and honor it.

"Is that what your doing right now, " he looked at her.

"Yup, I'm looking at some of my favorite parts and falling in love all over again, " she said happily.

He gave her a self-conscious laugh and grabbed her hand lacing her fingers with his. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them gently before placing it down casually on his thigh. It was his bad thigh. She could feel the indentations of his scar beneath the warm denim of his jeans. She was surprised that he had placed her hand there, because he still hadn't let her see it since that night in the bathroom. She chose not to bring attention to the fact, letting him guide her whenever he felt comfortable. It was bad, and for sure it was ugly, but as with all things grotesque the more you were exposed to them the more they lost their shock value. She understood his trepidation but she also loved him and was extremely attracted to him, scar or not. She wished that there was a way to reassure him that she would never be so shallow as to be hindered in her affections because of his scar but unfortunately there was nothing she could but wait. He was becoming more and more aggressive in their touching. Everyday he went a little bit further. And that reassured her that his confidence in their relationship was growing.

He had made a huge commitment when he asked her to move in with him. Who was she kidding; she shocked herself when she had suggested it. And then he spontaneously ran with it, so to speak. It was an impulsive suggestion on her part, but she supposed that somewhere in her subconscious it was something that she wanted as well, otherwise, she would never have said it. She was extremely happy that she did, however. She wanted to live with him. She wanted that kind of commitment from him. It was the most she could have asked for. She wouldn't fool herself into the romantic fantasy that he was interested in marriage and children because truthfully she wasn't interested in those things either. She had learned that a long time ago about herself. Her career had always been more important to her. Her sacrifices for her career were evidence to that. What she did want was a lover to share her life with, someone to treat her like an equal and respect her and her career. Despite all of his snarky comments and his sometimes arrogant bravado, he loved her and respected her. And that truly was all she could hope for.

House pulled the truck into a spot at the diner and turned off the engine. He paused for a moment before getting out. "I love this truck."

Cate grabbed her purse from the floor by her feet. "You can have my bed and you can have me, but you're not getting my truck."

He laughed. "I kind of get it by default anyway."

She shook her head. "No. I'm the one who drives it to work and back. You can either hitch a ride when I go in or you can get one for yourself."

"Party pooper, " he said. "You are going to cost me a fortune, woman."

"It's just all those years of neglecting the comfortable things in life, " she said opening the door and getting out. "Like a comfortable mattress, a dining room table, a car that runs well…"

He got out and rested on his cane. "Yes, but those were all fine until I met you. And you had to go and show me bigger and better things. I was happy in my ignorance."

"Don't try and pin this on me, your incessant need to stimulate the pleasure centers in your brain is at fault here."

"Blah, blah, blah, " he griped placing his hand at the small of her back.

They entered the diner and found Cuddy and Wilson already at a table. Cate took the lead and House followed behind her.

"Well, this is truly an interesting surprise, " Cuddy said pleasantly. She was wearing a lovely pink sweater with little crocheted flowers accenting the shoulder and a pair of cream colored corduroys. She looked soft and casually relaxed compared to her usual high powered administrator appearance. Wilson was comfortable dressed in a blue Henley sweater and jeans. Cate regarded them for a few moments to determine what they might have been talking about but she couldn't tell.

"Well, how could we pass this up, since we bailed on last weeks fun, " House said in his over the top 'nice' voice. Cate looked at him to temper his sarcasm and he stared exaggeratedly at her in return.

"It's nice that you invited us, " Cate took off her down jacket and draped it on the back of her chair. House did the same and sat down. Cate wrapped her large purple pashmina scarf around her shoulders; she was still chilly even though she had on her loose grey turtleneck sweater over her jeans. It was getting very cold out and she as being to notice how much this Reynaud's was going to affect her. Instinctively, House grabbed her hands and placed them solidly together between his to warm them.

"So, I hear congratulations are in order, " Cuddy said.

"I told her, " Wilson said apologetically with a look at House who surprisingly shrugged it off.

"Yep, we are taking the big cohabitating plunge, " House said.

The waitress came to fill their coffee cups. House let go of her hands so he could fix his cup and she could do the same.

"Well, I think it's great, " Cuddy said drinking from her own warmed cup. "Finally somebody was able to nail this lunatic down."

Wilson chuckled and sipped his coffee. "Don't think she's all peace and love, she is as devious and twisted as he is."

"Oh, come on, you deserved it," Cate argued with a laugh thinking about how she had beat him last night.

"If I didn't answer that call, you wouldn't be having breakfast this morning, " Wilson countered.

"There is voice mail, " House added looking at the menu.

"What am I missing here, " Cuddy asked feeling out of the loop.

"She cheated and unpaused the game to kill my guy so she wouldn't lose the tournament, " Wilson explained.

Cuddy's eyes went wide. "You play video games?"

"Oh, yeah, it's a lot of fun. You should come over one night and …" House kicked her under the table. "…play."

"That would be fun, " Wilson agreed.

"Oh, yeah, " House said.

Cuddy shook her head. "I don't think…Video games aren't my thing."

The waitress came back to take their orders thankfully waylaying the awkwardness of that conversation

She turned to Cuddy first. "I'll have an egg white omelet with broccoli and Swiss, no toast."

She went to Cate next. "I'll have two eggs over easy with bacon and tomato juice."

She turned to House next because he was next to Cate. "Large stack of pancakes, extra bacon because she won't share. And a large orange juice."

At last she came to Wilson. "I'll have the banana pancakes with strawberry syrup and whipped cream."

Cate watched House stare at Wilson like he had grown another head.

"Banana pancakes?" House repeated. "What are you gay?"

"No. I just feel like having banana pancakes. How does make me gay?"

"I wonder what Man-hole-o and Jimmy Chew eat for breakfast? Oh yeah, banana pancakes!"

Cate rolled her eyes. "Will you get off the shoes already?"

"What? He gets homocakes and this gets turned back onto me?"

"Oh will everyone stop, we're here to have a nice breakfast as friends, " Cuddy said exasperatedly.

House pouted and drank his coffee as Cate continued the conversation. "So we bought a dining room table, it's being delivered on Tuesday."

"Have you decided where you're going to fit it?" Wilson asked.

House shook his head with a frustrated glare. "No idea."

"We have to rearrange some things, " Cate said ignoring House's grimace.

Cuddy held her coffee in her hands. "Well, you're going to have to make room for all your stuff anyway."

"I don't really have that much stuff, " Cate said.

"Thank God, " House muttered and Cate frowned.

"Change has never been his strong suit, " Wilson added. "Remember when you tried to give him a new carpet?"

"Oh, God, you'd have thought I took his entire office away, " Cuddy said.

"My carpet, my blood, " he said.

"He refused to go in his office or the conference room. He held differentials all over the hospital, disrupting everything, " Cuddy explained. "He threw a temper tantrum like a five year old until I gave him his bloody carpet back."

"Why did you want the carpet that you bled all over from being shot, " Cate turned to him.

"Reminder, I guess, " he said. "And she didn't ask me."

"Interesting choice for a power play, " Cate surmised. "I would think that having a visual reminder in your face everyday, would be something you'd avoid like the plague."

Wilson laughed, "If it were the plague he'd actually immerse himself in it."

House shrugged. "It's my blood; it's a part of me. You can't just take that away without asking me."

"Do you think if she asked you would you have said yes?" Cate pressed.

"Why are we psychoanalyzing me over this? That was two years ago. It's breakfast, " he evaded. "I'm more interested to know what's going between you two." He pointed at Wilson and Cuddy who immediately blushed. "Ah, ha, she's blushing. See it's more than just friends hanging out over pancakes."

"Is it, " Cate questioned taking his cue.

Wilson laughed, "There's nothing going on between us that can't be explained by two old friends and colleagues spending time together. Right?"

Cuddy plastered on a bright smile and nodded. "Right… Why would you think there's something more?"

House rolled his eyes. "Because you have been on the hunt for a babydaddy for the last two years and his expiration date on being single is just about up, " he deduced. "It stands to reason that you'd be each other's fall back plan."

"What? That's ridiculous, " Cuddy spat.

"How is that ridiculous, " he countered. "You guys went out on a few dates when you were searching for donors."

"I was not interviewing him, " she defended. "I told out that then and I[m telling you that now."

He laughed at her and she bristled knowing he wasn't believing anything she was saying.

Cuddy pointed at him. "Besides, I think it was you who always wanted to pretend you were my fall back plan at least until this one snagged you up."

Cate bit her tongue in surprise and watched the volley continue. House leaned forward antagonizing her. "Oh, please, you're so full of crap your eyes are turning brown. I gave you one night, and now you think…"

Cuddy gasped and her face turned red.

Both Cate and Wilson stared at House and Cuddy in shock. House grimaced at his slip and ran a hand over his jaw. He closed his eyes and then softened his look at Cate, "In college, a looooonnnggg time ago."

"You're an idiot, " Cuddy said. Cate glanced at Cuddy who had the grace to look ashamed and a little disgusted. "I was drunk and stupid."

"How come this is the first I'm hearing about this, " Wilson demanded.

"Because it's not a moment I'm proud of, " Cuddy told him with a dagger toss to House who scoffed at her derisively.

"What, like I am?"

Cate looked at Wilson who stared back at her and shrugged disbelievingly. A silence fell over the table. House seethed, his blue eyes stormy under his furrowed brow. Cuddy looked everywhere but at the people in front of her and Cate and Wilson flicked their eyes between each other and the two outed lovers who couldn't stand the sight of each other. Cate didn't know what to say. She didn't really trust herself to speak so she sat in stunned silence.

The waitress came with their food and for the remainder of the meal they awkwardly skirted the issue that hung between them like an eight hundred pound gorilla in a tutu.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate dropped her purse on the floor by the entry table and hung up her jacket on the coat rack. She went into the kitchen to get a glass of water because she didn't know what else to do with her hands besides strangle him. Since he had dropped that little bomb at the table she had worked herself up into a frenzy of questions that she wasn't really sure she wanted answers to. Her reaction was irrational, she knew, yet, there was apart of her that couldn't let it go. It was twenty years ago. They were young and single and apparently stupid. There was nothing between them now so she had no reason to feel this way. But she did.

She heard the TV go on and she shook her head. Of course he had nothing to say about it or add to it. In his mind it was over, no big deal, something that was ancient history. But the truth was it wasn't. Everyday that he had interaction with Cuddy there was a little more history between them. And that was why he made such a big deal about her friendship with her. They had a past that was more than just friends. He knew it and he didn't tell her. And that made her angry.

She strode into the living room and sat down on the couch next to him. "I want to talk."

He rolled his eyes and looked at her with a bored expression on his face. "Are you really going to do this?"

"Don't you think it would have been relevant to tell me about your history with Cuddy when you were trying to get me to not be friends with her?"

"I never said you shouldn't be friends with her, " he said.

"No, but you made it pretty damn clear that you didn't want me talking to her and that didn't make any sense until today, " she said.

He sighed heavily. "I explained why- she's my boss, that's all."

"Bullshit, you didn't want me talking because you guys had sex back in the day, " she accused.

"Ok, lets say yes, that's true… are you not going to talk to her now, " he asked. There was sarcasm in his voice and she knew he was trying to avoid really talking about it.

"Why do you care so much, " she demanded.

"I don't care, " he said noncommittally.

"You do care. You care that I'm friends with her, and you care that she might be starting a relationship with Wilson. Why does it matter so much to you?"

"It doesn't matter to me…" he denied.

"Oh, come on Greg, don't lie to me, you suck at it, " she said.

He laughed bitterly. "Why do _you_ give such a shit about it?"

"Because, you obviously felt like it was something to hide from me _and_ Wilson for that matter. Twenty years ago, Greg, and Wilson didn't even know about it." She searched his eyes for some kind of reaction but he gave away nothing other than irritation.

"It happened twenty years ago. It was one night… it wasn't worth mentioning."

Frustrated, Cate stood up and paced beside the couch next to the piano. "Worth mentioning? The woman you had sex with twenty years ago, hires you and gives you cart blanche to run around the hospital like a deranged superhero, and who you, by the way, also have some kind of sexually inappropriate comment for at least once a day… isn't worth mentioning?"

"No ,not really… do you really want to fight about this?"

"I just want some kind of explanation …" she threw her hands up in the air.

He stood up and hobbled over by her. "You're jealous, " he accused pointing a finger at her.

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "What if I am?"

He threw his head back and let out a frustrated laugh. "That makes no sense, Cate. Why would you be jealous of her?"

"I don't know, why wouldn't you tell me about her unless there was something to be jealous about?"

"What? You've got to be kidding me, " he ground out, "You know how much I hate her."

"You don't hate her… " she shouted pointing her hand out at nothing in particular. "You two feed off of each other like parasites. How do you think the whole thing slipped out in the first place? You had to push and push until you both said something that I bet you both now regret."

He was yelling now too. "Your damn right I regret it. If I wasn't such an idiot, then we would be standing here having this ridiculous conversation about nothing."

"It's not nothing. It's how I feel." She pounded her chest for emphasis.

"This is stupid Cate, " he exclaimed in exasperation.

"Don't you negate what I'm feeling."

He shook his head in bewildered agitation. "I can't believe that you're carrying on about something a trivial as …."

"Don't you dare make this out to be something insignificant…"

"It is, " he spat.

"I am not making a big deal out of nothing, " she refused to back down.

"You're being irrational," he argued.

Cate froze and stared at him in utter disbelief. "Irrational, " she hissed. "Irrational?!" She placed both of her hands on her head and let out an infuriated groan. She got up close to his face. "You've never seen me irrational." He backed up a bit and stared at her.

She was so angry she could feel her pulse beat in her neck. If she remained in the same room with him she might say something she'd regret. And there were already enough regrets for one day. "I can't even look at you right now, " she said and left him standing there in the middle of the living room.

She stalked down the hall to the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her. She leaned against the door and let out an indignant, frustrated sigh. Her eyes began to well up and she chastised herself for being such an idiot. Great…this was just great. She was jealous, he was pissed and now she was crying like child. Well done… they had just had their first fight.


	41. Chapter 41: Making Up

Sessions 41: Making Up

House sat on his laptop computer at his desk and checked his fantasy football stats. He was trying to distract himself from going into the bedroom and talking to Cate. He was pissed that she had to go and start a fight about nothing. But he was equally pissed at his own stupidity. If he hadn't let Cuddy goad him into a verbal sparring match he wouldn't have stupidly let that slip out. It was ancient history and it meant nothing. He did get why she was making such a big deal out of it. He couldn't believe that she was actually jealous about it. The thought never dawned on him that she would feel threatened by his odd antagonistic relationship with Cuddy. He figured it would be Cameron that she'd have the problem with, not Cuddy.

He supposed that maybe it bothered her how free he was with the harassing insults and his obsessive insistence on knowing every move she made and why. It was more about having material to bother her with than it was because he had any feelings for her. He liked to mess with her. It was fun and she was so easy to piss off. It was purely for entertainment. Sure she was attractive with a rocking bod but that didn't mean he wanted anything more to just admire from afar. She was his boss and she reminded him of that irritating fact every day.

He never wanted to hurt Cate. That wasn't his intention. She meant more to him than anything else and his stupid impulsive mouth earned him a ticket to the doghouse because of it. And then like an asshole, he called her irrational. That set her of like a firecracker. He had never seen her so incensed. He recalled how angry she had been when he told her he had her investigated by Lucas. She was hurt then. But now she was infuriated. Her eyes had gone dark and she looked like she was barely keeping herself in check. He looked like she might actually hit him. And that surprised him. There wasn't much in this world that surprised him, but she kept on giving him new things to keep him on his toes that was for sure.

He didn't really know what to do now. She was angry. She needed some time to calm down and he needed some time to keep himself in check so he wouldn't be baited into saying something else he'd regret. Normally he would have asked Wilson for advice but he figured that his best friend was probably just as pissed that he had no idea about Cuddy and him either. And if his suspicions were correct Wilson was trying to make the moves on Cuddy and probably appreciated that knowledge coming out about as much as Cate did. So he was on his own to fix this. Making amends was not something he did. He never apologized and he never really gave as shit if people were offended or hurt by the things he'd said. But things were different now. These people matter to him and he had no idea what to do.

An idea popped into his head and he grabbed his cell phone. He punched in the Guru's number.

::I need your specific kind of expertise::

The response came shortly after…

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::What'd you do now?::

::Said something stupid::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::Insensitive stupid or Idiotic stupid?::

::Um, both…::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::Did you fight?::

::Yeah, she said she can't look at me right now::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::That's bad::

House rolled his eyes. Duh, of course it's bad what the hell did he think he was texting him for. It's not like they hung out and had man-dates.

::I know, that's why I need help::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::What did Wilson say?::

::He's pissed too::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::Uh oh::

::DO YOU HAVE ADVICE OR NOT?::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::Regardless of whether you're right, you will always be wrong. It will always be your fault and you have to accept that fact::

::What does that mean?::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::You have to apologize::

House sighed. Why did he even bother?

::Apologize how::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::You can either wait for her to come to you but that puts her on the offensive OR you can make the first move which makes you look like you care, even if you don't::

He did care but he wasn't going to tell Taub that although the pure fact that he was seeking advice from him was evidence enough.

::What if she won't talk to me::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::If you approach her first, she'll talk to you no matter what you said::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::Open with tea or something, it makes you look like you were thinking about her::

::I knew I hired you for a reason… What about Wilson?::

"_Put on your yalmukha, it's time for Chanukah"_

::You're on your own with that one. I know women, not men::

::Yep, thanx::

House flicked his phone shut and went into the kitchen to make Cate some hot chocolate. She was a chocoholic and would be much happier with that than tea. He had to hand it to Taub. The little man did know women. He had no idea how, but he was a valuable resource.

A few minutes later, he knocked on the bedroom door. The irony of having to knock on his own bedroom door was not lost on him as he waited for her response. But, he supposed it was no longer just his room, it was hers too since she had agreed to move in with him. This was something new he was going to have to get used to as well. There was no response so he knocked again and opened the door. He limped in slowly because he was holding her hot cocoa and wasn't using his cane. She was curled up on his side of the bed sleeping. He felt a pang of remorse when he saw her sleeping so quietly and he mentally kicked himself for being such a jerk.

Carefully he moved over to place the cup on the nightstand and sit softly on the bed. The slight movement of the mattress made her open her eyes. They were a little red and he could tell that she had been crying. He placed his hand on her hip and she touched her hand to his thigh with a little frown.

"I made you some hot chocolate, " he said in a small voice.

She gave him a slow smile. "Thank you."

He took a deep breath not really knowing what to say. Oh yeah, Taub said he was supposed to apologize. "I'm sorry."

She pouted a little frown and sat up. "I'm sorry too, " she said with a shake of her head. "I don't know who that woman was out there."

He chuckled quietly. "Well, that guy out there was definitely the usual me."

"I'm not like that, I don't do jealous, " she said with a self-deprecating smirk. "I guess there's something about the two of you that bothered me that I wasn't admitting to myself."

"There is nothing, " he assured her.

She touched her hand to his heart on his chest. "I know. It's _irrational_…" she said with a little laugh.

He grinned and pulled her into a hug. She came easily into his arms and held him tightly as if he was going to go somewhere if she let go. He rubbed his hands reassuringly down her back. "I'll try to never call you than again."

She laughed over his shoulder. "Good plan. Even if you might possibly be an eensty bit right."

He laughed too. At least she was conceding that he could be a little percentage in the right so he wouldn't have to accept sole responsibility. "So we can chalk this up to our first fight and put it behind us?"

She pulled back to look at him. "Yeah, it's done."

"Good because we have more important things to do today, " he said taking both of her hands in his.

"Like figure out how in the hell we're going to fit a dining room table in the living room, " she said.

"Yes, and start packing up your stuff to move over here, " he said.

"When do you want to actually move all of my stuff here, " she asked.

"Next weekend, " he told her. She gave him a surprised little smile and he grinned. "I want you here as soon as possible." Sexy Kitty jumped up on the bed and wiggled her way in between them. She climbed onto his lap and nuzzled against his chest. He pet her and smiled. "She wants you here too."

"Please, she your girl, " she said scratching the little cat's head. "Since you brought her here, she's ignored me completely."

"What can I say, my animal sex appeal crosses the barriers of species, " he joked.

Cate reached for her mug of hot cocoa and blew delicately across the surface to cool the hot liquid. "How are we going to get my bed and things over here? I don't think we can get a moving company on such short notice."

"I've got four guys at my beck and call, " he said.

She eyed him dubiously, "You think they'd do that for you?"

He shook his head. "No, they'll do it for you."

She laughed and sipped her drink. "Well, we really only need to move the bedroom furniture because every thing else was there when I moved in. The rest is just my clothes, and personal stuff like pictures, books, my computer."

"None of that furniture is yours?"

"No, I rented that place when I came back from the South Pole. I sold my condo before I left and purged most of everything I owned. I kept the things that were really important to me at my dad's and I haven't actually been back to get any of it. Most of it was stuff my mom gave me, so it's better off there anyway."

House found that interesting. He had lived his entire childhood as a nomad because of his father, moving from country to country, a new school every year, never really being able to call a place home. Once he became an adult and had settled down after med school he had subconsciously planted roots. His place was filled with things, antique pieces of furniture, his musical instruments, old medical tools, tons of books and old medical texts. He never really considered that he had cherished those things or that they made his home a home. But he supposed that he had been collecting and storing since he had moved in, which was quite a while ago. It would be very difficult for him to just up and move now.

"You can bring that stuff here now, if you want, " he offered wanting her to feel like this was her home too.

She smiled at him. "Eventually. It's just stuff and I'd like to start fresh with things that you and I find together."

He nodded. "That sounds good to me."

"Me too, " she said leaning in to kiss him. Their fight behind them, they spent the rest of the day planning for the coming week and their immediate future. It gave both of them a warm feeling inside to know that things were moving in a positive forward direction.

_Authors Note: Taub's ring tone if you couldn't place it is Adam Sandler's Chanukah Song… I polled my son for ideas and he came up with it…Kid's got a good sense of humor and aspires to be as snarky as House. Nice right? Anyhoo…hope you're all still enjoying this long ass journey House is on to become a better man through is relationship with Cate. Look out for some action between Wuddy, I'm following the events of the adoption but putting Wilson in House's place because I am soooo not feeling that whole Huddy thing. Kudos to Huddy fans, I'm sure you're tickled. However, not in this alternate universe. The bed is coming so the sex should be coming too…right? Hmm we'll see….Sexual tension abounds all around for our characters. Enjoy!_


	42. Chapter 42: No it's not

Sessions 42: No it's not

Monday morning, Wilson sat at his desk running through his daily calendar to get a handle on what his day looked like. He had two appointments with new patients and a consult on a colleague's patient in the morning, a biopsy later this afternoon and rounds with his hospital patients. It was a full day. A light knock rang out from his door and he looked up. If it were House, he would have just barged in so he wondered who it could be.

"Come in, " he called.

It was Cuddy. She poked her head in and smiled shyly before he waved her in. She looked lovely today in a bright red blouse and black slim skirt. Her hair fell loose and full around her shoulders curling softly. He could smell the faint scent of her floral perfume as she came to stand in front if his desk. She looked tired and sad and he wondered why she had come to see him so early in the day because it was much to early for House to have fucked up enough to have him run defense on something he'd done or more likely irrationally proposed to do.

"Hi, " she said a bit nervously.

Wilson stood and came around the front of his desk. She held a folder in her hand and agitatedly tapped it against her other palm. She seemed like she needed to talk, desperately. He took pity on her and offered her a chair to sit in. "What brings you in here so early? What did he do?"

She laughed and then grew serious. "Nothing. I mean nothing that you don't already know."

"What's wrong then?" he asked curiously leaning against the edge of the desk.

"It's about what he said at breakfast yesterday, " she told him anxiously.

Wilson frowned and steadied his gaze on her. He wasn't sure he really wanted to talk about that. Sure, he was angry at House for keeping such a huge secret from him but he was angrier that it had actually happened. Which was irrational, to say the least, because it happened twenty years ago and he had no claim to Lisa Cuddy. He didn't know why he felt this way but the news had hit him like a punch to the solar plexus. It sickened him and awoke unwarranted feelings of jealously and betrayal. If he, merely and old friend, had felt this way, he could only imagine how Cate reacted. Thoughts about it had consumed him all day yesterday after he had left the diner and had finally been able to put it to rest sometime last night. Yet, here she was, wanting to talk to him about it. As a friend, he owed her that much. So he steeled himself and put his own feelings aside for the betterment of hers.

"What do you want to talk about, specifically?" he asked her.

She fidgeted in her chair looking at here hands. "I want you to know that what happened between me and House was something that was a one time thing that happened a long time ago and means nothing to me now."

"Lisa, you don't have to explain to me, " he said.

"I want to, " she interrupted. "I want you know that I don't feel anything for him other than contempt and irritation and aggravation and sometimes maybe respect for him as a brilliant doctor, that's all. I'm happy form him that he's with Cate. It makes him more manageable, more tolerable."

"I know those things, " he told her. "But why is it important for you to tell me?"

She sighed and looked away. "It's important to me that you know."

"I do know, " he reassured her with a comforting hand to her shoulder. Her delicate shoulder felt so tiny under his hand and he removed it quickly as the heat of her skin seeped through the thin silk of her blouse.

He looked up at a movement he saw out of the corner of his eye. House was outside his door to the patio they shared. He was about to become irritated but House uncharacteristically backed up and gestured for him to finish his conversation. Wilson was confused by that strange turn of events but immediately put a smile on his face as he looked back down at Cuddy.

"Wilson, " Cuddy said moving forward to sit eagerly on the edge of her chair. "He was partially right you know."

"What do you mean, " he asked. "What was he right about?"

She looked up at him with her grey eyes and she nervously bit the edge of her lip between her perfect white teeth. "I am interested in you, but not because of the reason he said I was interested for."

Wilson stared at her not trusting himself to say anything. He was shocked and surprised and… unexpectedly exhilarated by this news.

"I know that it's only been six months after Amber and I don't expect that you're ready for anything serious but, I just wanted to tell you how I feel about you…"

Before he realized what he was doing, he stood up and grabbed her face between his hands and brought his lips down on hers in a kiss that ignited a fire in him that he thought would be dormant for along time to come. She placed her petite hands on his arms and he deepened the kiss feeling alive and rejuvenated and whole again. She was soft and beautiful and absolutely amazing.

The kiss ended and they pulled away from each other breathing heavily. He ran his hand over the back of his neck feeling guilty for taking advantage. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be, " she said breathlessly.

"Have diner with me tonight, " he said impulsively. She smiled at him and he almost grabbed her again but he held himself in check.

"I'd like that, " she said.

"Okay, pick you up at seven, " he said.

"Yes, " she said and reached for the door knob.

"Okay, " he said nervously. He watched her go. He counted to ten to calm his heart that was beating like a drum cadence and also to let her get into the elevator before he went into House's office to determine if that just really happened or not.

He pulled open the glass door to the patio and hopped over the wall between their balconies. He usually never came in this way. That was more House's M.O. Feeling like a randy teenager, he yanked open House's door pleasantly startling him for once in his desk chair.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House sat at his desk with his back to the patio door while he played his PSP clearly avoiding any kind of work on this fine Monday morning. He had gone to talk to Wilson about his inadvertent slip of the tongue to smooth over any rough edges with his friend. But apparently he was interrupting something already in progress. Cate would have been proud of his restraint in walking away instead of thrusting himself into a situation that was clearly none of his business.

He jumped when the back door to his office flew open and Wilson appeared in an agitated bundle of nervous energy. He paced along side of his desk with his hand at the back of his neck like he did when he was truly at a loss for what to think. House was perplexed and more than a lot curious. Jus what exactly did he almost stumble in on five minutes ago?

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I don't know what the Hell I'm doing, " Wilson said as he continued to pace.

House tilted his head at him. "What did Cuddy have to say?"

"She came to tell me how much she doesn't like you, " Wilson relayed.

House laughed. "Yeah, what else is new?"

Wilson stopped and stared at him and then began to pace again. "After yesterday, she felt she needed to clarify."

House rolled his eyes hoping that this wasn't going to be blown out of proportion. "Yeah, and?"

"And… and… I kissed her, " Wilson blurted out.

House dropped his mouth open in shock. "You what?!"

"I kissed her, " he stated. He held his one arm out to the side, flopped it down by his thigh and slumped into the chair in front of his desk. He let out a huge sigh and then started to bounce his knees up and down in anxiety.

House shook himself and then pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, or having a nightmare. "Was there tongue involved?"

"Yes, there was tongue involved, " he said irritatedly. "I don't ask you shit like that."

"No you just ask if I had sex with my girlfriend yet which his way more personal, " he said.

Wilson eyed him. "Have you?"

"No. And we're talking about you. And your tongue. In Cuddy's mouth." Wilson leveled a look at him about the no sex and then grimaced at his vulgar description of their kiss. House couldn't help himself and he pushed a little further. "Did you cop a feel?"

"What? No. House, this is serious, " Wilson exclaimed.

"Yah, ya think?"

"What am I going to do?" Wilson implored him looking a little pale around the edges.

"Did she slap you?"

"No."

"Well that means she wasn't averse to it, " House said.

"No, " Wilson nodded.

House shrugged. "How did you leave it?"

"I asked her to dinner, " Wilson said.

"Ah, well, " House shrugged again. "You've sealed your fate."

"It's just dinner, " he objected.

"Well, then what are you crying about, " he asked. "If it's just dinner…"

"Yeah, you're right, it's just dinner, " he said standing, at little more at ease or like he was trying to convince himself. House couldn't really tell which, maybe a little bit of both.

"So we're okay with the whole me not telling you thing, " he surmised pointing back and forth between them.

Wilson glared at him. "No you're still an asshole for keeping that little tidbit under your hat."

House tipped his head. "I can live with that."

"Cate take it ok, " Wilson asked.

House shook his head with a grimace, trying not to remember that whole scene. "Not so much."

"You had a fight, " he guessed.

Houses nodded slowly. "Yeah, but it's over. We're fine."

"Good." Wilson nodded and eyed him questioningly. "You had a fight and there was no make up sex? What the hell?"

"Why are you so hell bent on me not having sex or having sex or whatever…" he asked.

"Well because it's not normal for you, " he said. "Are you having problems… you know…" he made gesture toward the fly of his pants.

House gasped. "Fuck no!" He just called his manhood into question. Good lord!

"Because you know, Vicodin can…"

"It's not the Vicodin…" he snapped.

"It could be your age, " Wilson suggested.

"It's not my age. There is no problem, " he stated vehemently.

"I know it might be…difficult to talk about…I could write you a scrip…"

"My wood is not the issue…I can get a hard on just fine…" he said a little louder that he wanted at the same exact time Thirteen walked into his office. Her eyes went wide and she clamped her mouth shut freezing exactly in her spot. House closed his eyes and prayed to whatever God was available to give him the strength to not go over and beat the ever living shit out of Wilson for even beginning this ludicrous conversation. Wilson grimaced apologetically and then tried to act nonchalant. "What?!" House shouted at her.

"Ummm, you're needed in the clinic, " she said carefully as she came to him to hand him red folder.

"I am never needed in the clinic, " he growled. "Now get out."

"Seriously you're needed in the clinic, " she repeated thrusting the folder at him.

He refused to take the folder from her. "Got tell Wilson's piece of fuzz she can't blackmail me into clinic duty today."

Thirteen looked at him oddly and said "It's not Cuddy, there are three teen age girls who refuse to see anyone but you. They've been waiting for over two hours."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Teenage girls?"

"That's what I said, " she groused. She never had any patience with him. "They insist that they see you and only you. They said you treated them last week."

A light bulb went off in his head. His three little cheerleaders from last week. "Ok, I'll be right down."

She dropped the folder on his desk and smirked at Wilson before leaving.

"Thank you very much, " House griped at Wilson who was doing a poor job of trying to hold in his laughter.

"I'm just trying to be a good friend, " he said.

House rose from his chair and grabbed his cane. "A good friend will never speak of this again, " he warned.

Wilson held his hands up in truce. "Just do yourself a favor and have sex with your girlfriend. She's moving in in six days. Usually that happens before they move in."

"Yes, thanks for the advice, " he said sarcastically. "I'll be sure to get right on that after I deal with my cheerleaders. " He held up the red file and paused with his hand on the door. "Try not to gouge your penis on the barnacles when you're doing Cuddy later."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House pushed the door open to Exam Room 1 and was greeted by three pairs of expectant eyes. They were not in cheer uniform today which was a total bummer. He had so hoped that he would catch a glimpse of orange panty on perfect round butt, but alas no such luck. There were dressed as typical teenage girls go, jeans, tops, cute little shoes, lip gloss and shinny hair.

"So ladies, who sprained a wrist or ankle that needs my immediate attention at… " he looked at his watch, "… ten in the morning? And why aren't you guys in school?"

All three of them had eyes as big as saucers. Kara the spokesperson rung her hands and said, "We have STDs."

House paused mid limp and stared at them. Not what he expected to hear. "All three of you?"

All three of them nodded gravely.

He pulled the rolling stool over to him with his cane and sat down. "So if all three of you think you have an STD, which means that all three of you had unprotected sex."

Chelsea stepped forward. "No, we're all on the pill."

House scrunched his face into a grimace. "The pill only protects you from becoming pregnant, not from STDs. Condoms protect you from those. Don't you guys have a heath class at school where you learn this stuff?"

They nodded.

"Did you all fail that class? Or just do your nails through the entire part where you learned about not having sex without a condom?"

Amanda rolled her eyes, "We thought we were being safe."

House sighed exasperatedly. "It says right on the package that it doesn't protect from sexually transmitted diseases."

They rolled their eyes at him and he backed off. "Ok, so how come all three of you think you have an STD? Did you all do the same boy?"

They all gasped and flashed attitude at him. "Eww that would be gross, " Kara said.

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest. "And that would make us whores."

"We all went to a party over the weekend and things, you know, happened, " Chelsea explained.

"With different boys?" He asked beginning to feel like a father who seriously needed to beat some randy teenage boys around with his cane. Hello, where the hell was that coming from?

"Yes, " she said. "Please you have to help us, we're like so in trouble."

Kara squirmed a little. "And it burns."

Sighing, House stood and step thumped to the phone on the wall. "I have to call in a nurse, " he told them.

"No!" all three of them advanced on him.

"I'm sorry, I have to, " he said dialing the nurses station. "This is Dr. House, I need to do a pelvic exam, send in a nurse to Exam 1." He hung up the phone. "It protects you and me, for that matter."

They all crossed there arms nervously over their stomachs and began to look like the scared little girls that they were. He sat back down on the stool and opened up the chart. "So tell me about what you're experiencing. You said burning, " he said to Kara.

"Itching, " Amanda said.

"Smelly white stuff, " Chelsea said.

He nodded and the nurse came in. "How long?"

"Started yesterday, " Kara said.

"For everybody?"

They nodded.

The nurse looked at him quizzically. He glanced back at her. "They're a package deal. They do everything together."

He left the room so the nurse could help them get prepared for their exam. He limped heavily on his cane over to the pharmacy so he could pick up his refill while he was waiting. Why waste time he figured? He saw Thirteen across the nurses station and turned to avoid her smirking eyes. Fucking Wilson… he could kill him. He made an exaggerated show of taking his Vicodin so Thirteen wouldn't assume he was picking up the telltale little blue pills. It was times like this with the cheerleaders that he felt really fucking old. Wasn't it just yesterday, or at least last week, that he was the one that would have been going to parties and having sex with pretty young girls? No, it was thirty years ago. He remembered suddenly he was turning fifty in a month and that was depressing enough. He didn't need his ducklings thinking that he couldn't get it up. He had his piggish rep to protect after all.

Figuring he had given them enough time he knocked back on the door and entered. The Vicodin taking effect, he relaxed and went to work. Having swabbed and checked each of the girls, he took off his last pair of gloves and made a few notes in each of their charts.

"I think what you have is a yeast infection, " he said. "I'll have the tests run and they'll be back soon, but this looks like a classic case of too much moisture in a hot area. Birth control pills plus working out and sweating in tight little panties and those suits you wear."

"Leotards, " Kara supplied for him.

"Oh, my God!" Amanda exclaimed.

"What?" he asked a little afraid of the answer he might get.

"No wonder my leotard didn't fit, I thought I was getting fat, " she said. "We must have switched by accident."

"Well, that would explain why you all have it, " he said. "Did you ever think to maybe put your names inside so you don't mix them up?"

"That would like… make so much sense, " Chelsea added. House rolled his eyes and tried not to make a comment about the future in the hands of these rocket scientists. Thank God they were pretty enough to land rich old husbands.

The nurse shook her head as she prepared each of samples for the lab.

"Get dressed and I'll be back in a while when your test results are in, " he said and went to leave the room.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"How long will it take?"

"What should we do until then?"

"I am going to go somewhere that is not the clinic and you are going to wait for me to come back, " he told them.

"Can we come with you?"

"What? No, you can't come with me, " he said in exasperation. He shook his head and left the room hurriedly before he had three little yeast infected shadows following him aimlessly around the hospital.


	43. Chapter 43: Age before Wisdom

Sessions 43: Age before Wisdom

Leaving the clinic, House went up to Cate's office figuring that no one would be able to find him up there and he'd have some quiet time with his woman. Her assistant Judy was at her desk. "Is she with a patient?" he asked.

"No, she's doing paperwork right now, I'll tell…never mind…" she said and trailed off after he ignored her and walked into her office.

House limped into her office and thought about how he hadn't actually been in here in weeks, since they started dating. He went right to the sofa and plopped down stretching his legs out over the edge of the arm.

Cate watched him from her desk in silent amusement. "Well, hello, and who are we hiding from?"

"Everyone, " he said with a sigh. "Toss me piece of chocolate."

He heard her open her desk drawer and then move gracefully over to him. She had on one of her tight skirts that showed her gorgeous legs from the slit in the back and her sexy shoes that he continued to tease her about. Truth be told, he loved to look at her legs when she wore them. Thirteen was right, slim and shapely, just like a pin-up's. She sat delicately on the coffee table and placed the chocolate on his shirt. He unwrapped the morsel and popped it in his mouth and then brought his hand to touch the back of her calf simultaneously enjoying the smoothness of her skin and the melting dark chocolate in his mouth. He recalled the night she found him sleeping in here just like this. She had watched him sleep for a long time and then he had kissed her for the first time by the window. It seemed so long ago now.

"So what really brings you in here, " she asked.

"I missed you, " he said.

She laughed. "No, you didn't. You never miss me when you're at work."

"I'm not technically working right now, " he smirked continuing to fondle her leg.

"Yeah, I figured, " she said.

"I'm going to be fifty next month, " he said matter-of-factly.

"When?" she asked with a surprised lift of her finely arched eyebrows.

"Doesn't matter, " he said.

She chuckled. "What, you're not going to tell me when your birthday is?"

"I don't know when yours is."

"July 18th."

He considered still not telling her and then figured she would only find out from Cameron anyway. "December 21st and don't make a big deal out of it. It's just another day."

"Okay, " she agreed. "So what's the matter?"

"I feel old, " he said. Did he actually just pout?

"Why? Why old today?"

He shrugged. "My cheerleaders are back. They have yeast infections. They thought they had STDs and I lectured them about not using condoms."

"Which is what you would normally do anyway, right?"

"Yeah, but, it made me feel old, " he said. "I wanted to beat the shit out of the kids that they let touch them."

Cate smiled at him and scooched in next to him on he couch and placed her hands on his shirt. He clasped her hands in his and held them against his chest.

"Is this new for you?" she asked.

"What, feeling old?"

"No, feeling protective, " she said.

He thought about it. He had never felt like this before. Normally he could care less. "Yeah, pretty much. And that makes me feel old."

She laughed and gave him a little shove with her hip. "You're not old."

He breathed for a minute looking at her. Her hair was loose and a little wavy around the edges today. He liked it. "Wilson kissed Cuddy this morning, " he said changing subjects.

"What? Really?" she asked.

"They're going to dinner tonight, " he told her.

"How do you feel about that?" she asked him carefully.

"Well, Dr. Milton, let me see, " he quipped placing a finger on his mouth in mock thought and then dropped his face into a sarcastic smirk. "Umm… I don't really care."

"Gee Dr. House, your detachment is admirable, " she joked back and then tilted her head to the side. "I think it's nice."

He shrugged. Truthfully, he wasn't really sure how he felt about it. "I think it's weird. They've been on dates before but not like this. This is…real somehow."

"Maybe Wilson is realizing that she's more suited to him than he thought before, " she surmised.

"I guess she is, " he said. "She's a hell of a lot more compatible than Amber was."

She played with the buttons on his shirt. "What was Amber like?"

"My nickname for her was Cut-throat Bitch, does that help?"

"Wow, that's so sweet, " she said sarcastically.

"Cuddy's a pain in the ass but, she's nothing like CB. She was cut-throat and a bitch, she stopped at nothing to get what she wanted. Never willing to lose. Completely not Wilson's type. Cuddy's always been Wilson's type. I guess I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner."

"Sometimes it takes a while to see the things staring at you right in front of your face, " Cate said with an ironic little smile.

"What's that smile for," he asked with a grin.

"Nothing, " she said. "I'm just smiling."

Impulsively, he pulled her down to him and kissed her soundly, tasting her sweetness between his lips. Resting her hands against his shoulders, she returned his kisses with a fevered passion. She responded so easily to his touch that it still amazed him every time. Slowly, he moved his hands down her shoulders and to her waist where he found the edge of her soft, thin sweater. She continued to work magic with her tongue as he slipped his hand up along the flat planes of her ribs to the silky edge of her bra. She pulled back from him breathlessly and looked deep into his eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were red from his kisses. Her eyes were a deep velvety chocolate as she stared at him silently pleading with him to touch her. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he moved his hand around to the front of her bra cupping her breast gently in his palm. Instinctively she arched forward with a sigh as he ran a finger underneath the lacey edge teasing the sensitive flesh to a taught bud. She moaned quietly in the back of her throat and bit her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure. She smiled at him and leaned forward to kiss him deeper and more hungrily than before.

She was alive and electric as her hands searched over his chest and down to run up underneath his t-shirt underneath his dress shirt and jacket. He suddenly felt confined in all of his clothes as her nails scraped smoothly against the skin of his stomach causing him to flinch and tighten his muscles against her teasing touch. Deep within him a stirring sensation flooded his groin and he thanked the powers that be that neither Vicodin nor age deterred him from reacting to her the way that he should. He wanted her and he needed her and the growing bulge in his pants was evidence to that. Fuck you Wilson, for making him doubt that he could properly respond to her.

She dragged her fingers down the electrified skin of his chest leaving a trail of little shocks in her finger's wake. She flattened her palm against the flat of his stomach as she continued to probe his mouth with her teasing tongue moving slowly downward to the waistband of his jeans. He grabbed her wandering fingers stopping her before her exquisite touch moved too low and pushed him over the edge of coherent thought. They were at work after all. Why he was the voice of reason was completely beyond him.

His pager went off with a startling beep muffled between the connection of their two bodies. She pulled back immediately and stood up. Her knees buckled under her a little and she nearly tripped on the coffee table. He went to reach out for her but she righted herself and shook her head with a little laugh. He collapsed back against the cushions a let out a supremely frustrated groan. His heart was pounding in his chest and his crotch and he cursed the fact that they were indeed here at work and not at home where he could have ignored the page and let her hand wander wherever she choose to let it go. He pulled the electronic offender off of his belt and read the message. His cultures were back from the lab. Well, that was ironically fast. It usually took them a much longer time than that. Sitting up, he looked around for his cane. He found it underneath the coffee table. It was what she tripped on when she stood up. He shook his head and slowly eased himself off the couch. He came up behind her and placed his hand around her waist pulling her against him and kissing her hair. "I'm sorry, " he whispered in her ear.

She ran her hand up behind her to cup the back of his head with a sexy little purr. "It was divine intervention."

He chuckled against her temple enjoying her smell. "It's dangerous for me to hang out in here, " he said. "You office isn't a glass fishbowl, like mine is."

She laughed musically. "Yes, we should not be in any rooms with opaque walls. At work anyway."

"I have to go, " he said making no move to actually leave. He couldn't seem to let go of her.

"I think I have to go and see some crazy people to calm myself down, " she joked turning around to place a kiss on his jaw.

He kept her in the circle of his arm and kissed her again slow and sensual. She moaned into his mouth and then pushed away from him with whimper. Reluctantly he let go of her and took a deep breath. She stepped out of reach behind her desk straighten in her skirt and her sweater and then her bra. She eyed him as she fixed her incredibly soft breasts and he had to close his eyes and turn away from her. She had to be the sexiest woman he'd ever met and he wondered what the fuck he was doing not having sex with her. Maybe Wilson was right? Maybe the Vicodin was slowing his response time. He'd have to check into that. Because that could be a very, big problem.

He ran a hand over his face to clear his thoughts. "We'll pack up more of your stuff tonight, " he suggested.

"Yeah, that's sounds like a plan, " she said. "I want sushi tonight for dinner."

He nodded. "Ok, sound good. I'll see you at home." He laughed and spun his cane around in a circle twice. "That sounds nice."

She smiled at him. "Yeah it does."

He winked at her and left the office.

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Back down at the clinic he stopped by the pharmacy to fill his little cheerleaders' prescriptions. He grabbed the three bags and entered Exam Room 1. The Head Clinic Nurse, he liked to call, Nurse Ratchet, followed him in. He hung his cane on the rolling metal tray table.

"I come bearing goodie bags, " he said holding up the white bags. "And Johnny tell them what's inside the bags…"

They stared at him with annoyed eyes. He dropped the bags onto the table with a flourish.

"Well, Bob," he continued in his game show announcer voice. Hell, he was having fun even if no one else was. He pulled out each item as he described them. "We have Diflucan for the yeast infection. Only one pill should take care of the itchy, gross feeling in just a couple of days. We have to topical cream to help with that gross, itchy feeling in the meantime. Bob, we also have a prescription for the boyfriend… for his itchy, gross feeling."

Nurse Ratchet watched from the side of the room, with a wry smile.

Chelsea gawked at him. "We like have to tell him?"

"Uh, yah, you do, " he said to her mimicking her voice.

"We can't tell them, that's like really embarrassing, " Amanda said.

"I don't even like, remember his name, " Kara said.

Nurse Ratchet crossed her arms shaking her head. House closed his eyes and bit the 'fucking idiot' comment back in his throat before looking back at the girls. _Why, why, why…_ "Yeah well, if you're not mature enough to tell the boy you had sex with that you have a yeast infection and he might have it too, then you're not mature enough to be having sex, " he told them.

They bristled for a little bit, but knew that what he was saying was right.

"Good, " he said and limped over to the cabinet above the sink. "And Bob, we have one last parting gif t for our contestants…"

He took out a box of condoms and pulled out the strip counting off three and tearing off the group. He repeated it two more times and limped back to the little table where the bags were. "These ladies are con-doms. Say it with me now… CON-DOMS." He gestured to them to repeat him and wouldn't continue until they begrudgingly did so. "Do not under any circumstances have sex without one, no matter how much he complains or says 'I love you'; he's full of shit. Okay?"

They all nodded indicating they understood. "Okay…"

He dropped the condoms into each of their bags and handed them to the girls one by one. "If you have any problems or it's not gone in three or four days call me and I'll write you another prescription for something stronger."

"Where do we call?" Kara asked.

"The clinic, " he said. "And don't tell them your name because I won't remember who you are. You have to tell them your one of the Yeasty Cheerleaders. Got it?"

They nodded.

"Thank you Dr. House…"

"You're the best…"

"We love you Dr. House…"

They circled him for a giggly, girl group hung and he froze grimacing at their uninhibited show of unwarranted affection. Teenage girls he just gave vaginal exams to weren't supposed to want to be in the same room with him let alone touch him. "Okay, get off me. Now."

They let go and bounced happily out of the room waving good bye.

"That has to be the nicest thing I've ever seen you do, " Nurse Ratchet said to him as she walked past him out of the room.

"Don't get used to it, " he grumbled.

"Yeah, it must be a lunar eclipse, " she snarked.


	44. Chapter 44: Well, Duh

Sessions 44: Well, Duh

Cate wandered down to the clinic to see Cuddy before leaving for the day. She wanted to see how she was doing in anticipation of her big date tonight. She was happy for her. It seemed like Cuddy had been secretly pining for Wilson for a long time now and that she had held herself back out of respect for his feelings over Amber's death. Cate was mildly surprised at House's description of Amber. Wilson didn't seem like the kind of guy to be attracted to someone so ruthlessly aggressive. But, then again… he was House's best friend. She smiled wryly to herself and pulled the glass door open entering the clinic lobby. Thirteen saw her immediately and grabbed her by the arm to drag her into an empty exam room. She shut the door and turned to look at her expectantly.

"Oh my God, I've been waiting to see you all day, " her friend gushed excitedly.

Cate smiled and leaned against the exam table. "Why, what's going on?"

"Are you and House not having sex?" she asked flat out.

Cate's mouth dropped open in shock. Thank God she was leaning on the tale because she almost fell over. "What?! Why would you ask such a thing?"

Thirteen smirked dryly. "I caught the tail end of a conversation between him and Wilson this morning."

Cate swallowed and rolled her eyes. "What did you hear?"

"House shouted something about his equipment working just fine, " Thirteen relayed with a grin. "I think Wilson was asking if he needed Viagra."

Cate's eyes widened and she pressed her lips together fighting a smile that would give away her answer. She felt her heart go out to him. No wonder why he was feeling old today. _Poor thing_. "What did he say?"

"He said he was perfectly capable of getting a hard on and screamed at me to get out of his office, " she told her. "Are you guys having problems, because that would explain a whole lot about his sometimes bitchy attitude?"

"We're not having problems… we just… _aren't_ …" she trailed off and Thirteen came over to clutch her hands in a show of empathy and support.

"Oh my God Cate! Why?" The concern in her eyes was truly genuine.

Cate grimaced, realizing that she did actually needed a friend to talk to about this. "It's complicated."

"Complicated? It's been over a month and a half. You sleep together, how in the world do you not have sex, " her voice shrieked like this was an unnatural phenomenon. Truth be told Cate wasn't quite sure herself how they'd made it this far. After today in her office, she didn't think she'd be able to hold out much longer.

"I know, " she wailed. "It's not easy."

"Not easy? My God Cate, the man is the sexiest three-legged gimp on the planet, it's fucking difficult as hell to keep my own hands off of him, how the hell do you sleep next to him every night and not rape him?"

Cate threw her head back and let out a groan finally allowing herself to feel the frustration of the situation. "I don't know. I can't even tell you… It's getting harder and harder."

Thirteen eyed her. "Is it?" she asked with a knowing smirk.

Cate rolled her eyes. "Yes, _it _does, that's not the issue at all. Believe me…"

"Well then what is the issue, because you guys should be fucking like rabbits?" she demanded.

"I said it's complicated, " she repeated not totally feeling comfortable talking about his feelings of apprehension. Of all of her friends, he seemed to trust Thirteen the most but she was still his employee and knowing something so private crossed a boundary.

Thirteen looked at her sideways. "It's not you, is it… it's him."

Cate shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest.

Thirteen advanced forward. "He's the one, but it's not because he needs Viagra. It something else…"

Cate looked away biting nervously on her thumb.

"Cate what is it?" she asked legitimately alarmed. "I'm your friend, I swear on my own sorry ass life I won't speak of this to anyone. I wouldn't screw with you or him like that."

Cate put her hands to her mouth and let out a sigh debating about whether to tell her. She loved him and didn't want to betray him but she desperately needed a friend. "He's afraid. He doesn't want me to see his leg."

Thirteen backed up, surprised by her answer. "Why would that matter?"

"It doesn't matter to me, but it's his leg and he's very guarded about it. He doesn't want pity or empathy."

"What is he afraid off, that you won't be attracted to him?"

"I don't know, maybe. He doesn't talk about it."

"Or, he's afraid of being completely vulnerable to anyone…" Thirteen guessed. Cate had considered that too. He was uncomfortable with any kind of weakness especially in himself.

"I wouldn't blame him, " Cate said. "He's been through so much because of his leg and his pain is unbearable."

Thirteen crossed her arms in thought. "Do you think that the Vicodin lowers his drive?"

"It's possible that might be part of it, " Cate said.

"I mean on any given day he takes like twenty pills, opiates _can_ have that effect."

"I know. But he can't live without them, regardless o f what everyone else thinks."

Thirteen nodded knowingly. "Please, I'm not the one to complain about how many drugs someone does. If it makes him less of a lunatic then, I'm all for it."

Cate chuckled. "I like him that way."

"Yeah, but you don't have to work with him, " Thirteen griped. "So what are you gonna do?"

Cate shrugged. "I guess, continue what I've been doing… let him drive. When he's ready, I'm ready."

Thirteen grinned. "Want a case of batteries?"

Cate laughed out loud. "Please my shower owes me dinner and a movie like ten times over. I think we might be getting engaged soon."

Thirteen gave her a tight hug."I'm here if you need to vent."

Cate squeezed her friend back. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

The two walked out of the exam room into the clinic lobby. The clinic patients were gone for the day and the nurses were finishing with charts and straightening the area for the next go around tomorrow. Foreman spied them from across the nurses' desk where he was writing in a chart and came over to them with a smile on his face. "I've been looking for you, " he said directing his attention to Thirteen.

Cate eyed the auburn haired beauty from the corner of her eye and she glanced back at her smiling shyly. Cate raised a curious eyebrow at her and gave her a nod of approval as she moved out of Foreman's sight line. A blush tinted Thirteen's cheeks and she shook her head as if nothing affected her bringing her full attention to the handsome doctor standing in front of her. Cate smiled to herself and peeked through the doors into Cuddy's office which was her real intention for initially coming down to the clinic but the hospital administrator's lights were off. She had left the building for the day, no doubt to prepare for her hot date tonight. Well, it seemed like everyone was getting a little piece of the action in the budding romance around the building. Pretty soon they were going to have to rename PPTH, to _General Hospital_ if they kept this up.

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When Cate come home that evening House was already on the phone ordering their sushi for dinner. She hung up her coat and kicked her shoes off before she went to lean over the back of the couch to hug him tightly from behind. She kissed the back of his neck and he hunched his shoulders in response to her cold nose on his warm skin. He shooed her away with his free hand and continued to place their order. She ran into the bedroom and quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a comfy sweatshirt because they had intended to go pack up the rest of her things tonight. When she came back out into the living room, he was on the sofa shaking his bottle of Vicodin. He stared at the little bottle contemplatively for a moment and then when he saw her out of the corner of his eye he popped the lid off with his thumb and shook out two before dry swallowing them down. He stowed the bottle back in his jeans pocket and motioned for her to join him on the couch.

Cate remained where she was t the end of the hallway and leaned against the corner of the wall surveying the room. She looked around at all of the various pieces of furniture systematically placed around the room and wondered where the hell they were going to fit this table.

"What are you doing over there, " he questioned her and when she didn't respond. "Do I smell?"

She laughed and stepped a little further into the room. "Well, not currently… No, I'm looking at what our options are for where to put the table."

"Oh, the furniture store called, they had to switch the delivery day to Wednesday. "

"Oh. Okay, no big deal, " she said. "We'll figure it out that day which one of us can be there."

He looked around the room from his position on the sofa and shrugged. "There's not a lot of room."

Cate stepped further into the room and went over by the built-in book shelves by the kitchen. There was decent amount of space. "Here seems like the most logical place, but we'd have to move this lounge chair over there by the piano, " she said pointing to the open area by the end of the piano and by the front door.

"The TV has to go to the other side of the fireplace then, " he said. "We could move that hutch into the spare room."

Cate turned and looked quizzically at him. "Spare room?"

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "That other door in the hallway is another bedroom."

"What? There's another bedroom? I thought it was another closet. How did I miss that?" She said to him immediately going down the hallway to check it out.

He got up and reluctantly followed her with a bemused expression on his face. "Astute observation skills doc, " he teased.

She opened the door to a dark room. He reached behind her and flicked on the overhead light to reveal a small room with a desk, a futon and storage bins of stuff. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder with a laugh. "Wow, I'm an idiot. Who knew…"

"I did… about the room part… not you being an idiot…part, " he quipped, inching backward and scratching his head looking like he thought she might hit him fro being a wiseass.

Cate shook her head at her own failure to notice such an obvious thing. "Anything else you've got tucked away in here - perhaps a grand ballroom, maybe a basement with a jacuzzi and pool?"

"The other closet leads to the S&M parlor, but that one's a trick door, it really looks like a closet."

"Well then… yes, this makes things a lot easier, " she said moving back into the living room. He followed her moving swiftly with his cane to catch up. "We could move that hutch and the lounge chair that no one sits in into the spare room, put the table by the book cases and maybe even turn the sofa towards the piano."

"Let's try the first two and then see how much room we'll need after and then re-evaluate, " he said cautiously. Cate paused and nodded. Too much change at one time… Change was difficult for him. Little by little, she told herself, she didn't want to push too far.

"Ok, sounds good, " she agreed and came over to wrap her arms around his waist.

He hugged her back with his free arm and sighed contentedly against the top of her head. "I have a lot of stuff."

"You're just realizing this, " she said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, " he laughed. "But, I suppose I can move some of it to accommodate you, " he joked with an overly dramatic tone.

"Just a little bit, that's all, " she assured him.

He tipped her chin up and placed his hand along side of her jaw. "I'd move it all out of here if it means you're here to stay."

She smiled warmly at him. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me now."

They sat on the sofa and waited for the delivery guy to show up with their food. He relayed the rest of his story about his three little cheerleaders. It made her smile how much he reluctantly cared about them. She supposed that every once in a great while someone was able to sneak their way into his protective armor and make him care about them without him knowing what was happening. She figured that's what happened with her. Lucky for her, because she couldn't imagine what her life would be like without him in it now. If he hadn't taken care of her when she was in the South Pole, she might very well be dead. If he hadn't spent the time with her, she'd never have gotten to know him, or be attracted to his wit and acerbic humor and his devilish smile. Fate was a funny thing. Maybe these girls were just that kind of lucky to have crossed his path as well. Time for them would tell. Just like it had for her.

The delivery guy came and Cate answered the door to pay the man. She brought the food to the coffee table while House went to get the all important beer to go with the sushi. He came back to the sofa with a grin and sat down as she opened the containers.

"I spoke with my dad today, " she said broaching the topic easily. She knew he wasn't keen on meeting her father, since he had virtually ignored her request to think about it last week.

"Oh yeah, " he said with feigned interest.

"He wants to meet for dinner tomorrow night, " she supplied popping a tuna roll into her mouth.

"I assume you're going, " he said around his own spicy tuna roll.

"Yeah, " she said and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "You want to come?" She tried to make it sound as casual as going out with Wilson.

"We'll see, " he said noncommittally eating another piece of his roll.

She wasn't sure how much she should push the issue. She didn't want to be too aggressive because she knew if she backed him into a corner about it he'd lash out and then she'd never get him to go. But she didn't want him to think that she was totally ok with his avoidance tactics either. They were living together now and that was a big step. It meant family gatherings, shared vacations and holidays and both their names on the Christmas cards. He had to meet her dad soon. Thanksgiving was in a week and if he wasn't going to meet him before, then he was going to do it on Thanksgiving which was a whole other ball of wax to be tackled. She usually spent it with her dad at the house but this year she might want to have him come by them to see her new home.

"I was just thinking maybe you should meet him before the holidays to get it out of the way, " she proposed.

He hung his head for a second in annoyance. He was trying to temper his response. "I'll let you know tomorrow."

"Okay." And she dropped it. For now. What was it the Scarlet O'Hara said, after all tomorrow was another day.

_Author's Note: Hey guys…Okay so it seems really ridiculous that Cate didn't realize that there was another room but let's suspend our disbelieve and chalk it up to her just being so into him that she was so completely distracted by his dreamy eyes that it never dawned on her to open the door. I'm going to need that room later that's why I added it. And I moved the delivery date to Wednesday because I'll need that to. For those of you that are sticklers for details I figured it was more "domestic" for him to tell her about it than to just go back and change it in Chapter 40. _

_Special props go out to Ange for your gorgeous reviews. I am indeed not close to being done with this story. It will go well beyond Christmas. They seem to just keep spinning the yarn in my head. I have A LOT to tell and they keep inventing new stuff every day PS. You haven't seen the last of the cheerleaders either. Merry Christmas. Enjoy!_


	45. Chapter 45: Hide and Seek

Sessions 45: Hide and Seek

The plan for today was to avoid all people as much as possible. The less people he saw the less of a chance that she was going to be able to talk him into going to dinner. He didn't want to go to dinner. He hated restaurants because they required small talk, face to face. He was awkward and out of his element and he just simply couldn't stand the fake banality of having to talk to someone he had no interest in. Yeah , he was her dad. Great. He was glad that she had such a good relationship with him. It made her happy, that was perfect for her. Which made him… that word also… There was no need for him to be a part of that. He didn't see what purpose it served. And he knew that it would most likely cause more problems than good.

So here he was, enjoying his coffee and bagel down in the morgue. Hal never seemed to bother him. He just kind of accepted his presence as a necessary evil and let him do his thing. He could hear the coroner going about his business in the autopsy room through the swinging doors. He was listening to the Flyleaf today. The old guy had an eclectic taste in music when it came to doing autopsies. Today he was dissecting an eighty-five year old cancer patient who had probably checked into the great-blue yonder with a little help from his long-lost friend morphine.

House had just set up his little portable TV on a tray table to watch the Tyra Banks show. It was almost 10:00am and his little TV only received the broadcast networks up to channel 5 down here in the morgue. _The Guiding Light_ was on channel 2 but him watching that was like Wilson cheating on his wife with her best friend. He just couldn't bring himself to do that. So it was Tyra, which was okay because she was smoking hot. He sipped his coffee and munched on his bagel peacefully. That was until Cuddy found him. What, did she have a homing beacon on him? How the hell was she able to find him so easily in his hiding spots? He was loosing his touch at the whole misdirection thing.

"Bagels and coffee in the morgue, that's gross, even for you " she said snidely coming over to him with a folder in her hand. It was blue which meant she had a case file for him.

"You're wearing a low cut top and a push up bra which means Wilson didn't propose marriage last night, " he sniped.

She rolled her eyes. "It was dinner, only dinner. You have a case."

"Where'd you go?"

"Tre Piani, " she said with a smirk.

"Ooo big money, and you didn't put out? Tease."

She scowled at him. "We had a nice time. We're going to the movies tomorrow night. Patient was brought into the ER last night with high fever, headache and stiff neck."

"Boring, give him Tylenol and an icepack, " he said bringing his attention back to Tyra who was doing her "Oh-no-she-di-n't" head move. Damn he missed it…

"_She_ has confusion, paresthesias and loss of motor control, " she expounded. "Dr. Cameron believes that it's some sort of infection."

"It's probably meningitis, she should know better and do a spinal tap, " he said with a shrug. "She doesn't need me for that."

"She did a spinal it came back negative, " she said handing him the folder. He pushed it back at her. She forced it against his chest. "Look at it. The patient is pregnant."

Well, at least that was a little more interesting. "Fine. I'll bring it to my team. No need to break out the maternal instincts."

She rolled her eyes at him and turned on her pointed heel to leave. He called loudly to her as she left. "Wilson likes to be tied up and smacked with a hairbrush…His safe word is 'Mommy stop'."

House paged his team from his cell phone before gathering his paraphernalia and making his way up to Diagnostics. His team was there by the time he walked in to the conference room.

"Daddy has a case kiddies, " he said moving over to the white board. He tossed the file to Foreman and picked up the marker to begin listing the symptoms: fever, headache, stiff neck, confusion, paresthsias in fingers and toes, and loss of motor control.

"Twenty-eight year old female in her second trimester with a parasite, and I don't mean the ugly bug kind, I mean the one that looks cute in a onesie, came into ER last night with a kick ass head ache, fever disorientation and loss of motor control. She passed out at parent teacher conferences. She's the teacher not the parent yet, which I don't really care about other than the fact that she's around snot-nosed walking incubators all day long. Cameron and Baby-Momma wannabe think it's more than just an average infection because of the tingling in the hands and feet but they've ruled out meningitis in the ER."

"Could be a mild trauma caused a concussion leading to brain swelling, " Foreman offered.

Thirteen grabbed the folder. "There's no indication of any falls or accidents."

"Did she come into the ER with her husband or from the school?" Taub asked sitting down at the table.

House shrugged. "Don't know."

"Maybe we should ask Cameron who she came in with and see what kind of history we can get?" Kutner suggested. House nodded and put a question mark next to paresthesias. That was the one that didn't belong.

"Differential diagnosis for paresthesias…"

"Peripheral Neuropathy, " Foreman supplied.

"Lupus or MS, " Taub said.

"Gullian-Barre syndrome, " Thirteen said.

"Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy, " Kutner pulled out of his ass.

House turned his head to glance at the young doctor. "Why would you automatically go to CIDP?"

"Because you like interesting diagnoses, and CIDP is really rare, " Kutner defended himself.

House shook his head. Kumar was right. However… "CIDP takes about a year to develop, it's a slow onset, she would have had ascending numbness and tingling way before it got to the severe headache, fever and confusion."

"The confusion is probably due to the high fever and headache, " Thirteen said. "High fever's an indication of an infection."

"They did an LP and ruled out any kind of meningial infection that would cause the headache and numbness, " Taub said.

"We're probably looking at some kind of brain swelling that's causing the everything else, " Foreman proposed. "We should do an MRI and CT of the head to rule out any trauma that might have occurred before the incident at school and Increased Intracranial Pressure."

"We should also take into account that she's pregnant. It could be gestational diabetes that caused the peripheral neuropathy, " Kutner offered. Kumar was on fire today.

House looked at the board. There were too many things to rule out just yet. "Foreman, schedule the MRI and head CT after Kutner and Thirteen, do another LP, run a full CBC and tox screen and glucose tolerance test for the diabetes. Taub get a full history from whoever brought her in or find the husband and get it from him."

His team got up and left immediately to do their assigned tasks and he went directly over to Wilson's office to get the skinny on the big date last night. He limped around the corner to the oncologist's office and pushed the door open. Wilson was on the phone at his desk. House ignored his hand motion to give him a minute and went over to the sofa to lay down indicating that he was in no hurry and had plenty of time for him to finish his call. Wilson rolled his eyes at him and continued to place his prescription orders into the pharmacy for his dying bald kids.

House draped his arm over his eyes and waited. Finally he hung up the phone. "I assume you're here to ask about the date, " Wilson said cutting to the chase.

House uncovered his eyes and looked at his friend expectantly. "Did she put out?"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Did you _do_ your girlfriend yet? No? Then start with another question?"

"Fine, " House griped, why did he always have to bring that up? "How'd it go?"

"We had a good time, " he said.

"What, that's all you're gonna give me?"

"Yeah… "

"You went to Tre Piani and you're going to the movies tomorrow night… "

"You talked to her already, " Wilson asked annoyed.

"She brought me a case; I had to talk to her. It's just more fun to annoy her when she comes to bother me, " House said.

Wilson leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He put on a casual face and asked, "What did she say about it?"

"What are we, in high school?" House sneered.

"You perpetually live in high school… What did she say?"

"She said you had fun or a nice time or whatever, " he relayed indifferently.

"That's all she said?" Wilson asked curiously.

"She wasn't very interested in talking to me but I also made a comment about her wearing a pushup bra to entice you so I think she was a little pissed, " he said.

"Glad to see some things never change, " Wilson said sarcastically. "Is she wearing a pushup bra?"

House nodded with a lascivious grin. "Yeah, looking pert today…"

Wilson smiled. His pager went off and he checked his belt. "I have to go, Mr. Falkner is coding."

"I'm just going to stay here and nap, " House said relaxing into the couch. "Wanna do lunch?"

Wilson nodded. "Sure."

House settled in for his nap as the door closed behind Wilson. He had another few hours before the results on all the tests came back with the ducklings and lunch wouldn't happen for two hours or so either. His back was still bothering him because they hadn't moved the bed yet. Not that sleeping on Wilson's couch was going to do him much good, but it sure as hell beat napping in his yellow chair. At least he could stretch out his leg which was also nagging its usual complaints. He uncapped his Vicodin and threw down two pills. He replaced the cap and shook the bottle absently looking at the prescription label.

Since Wilson opened his big mouth about the Vicodin yesterday, he'd been consciously trying to extend the time between doses to see how long he could go without taking them. He could only make it about and hour past his normal time without driving himself nuts. The problem was that he loved the little pills. They made him feel good. The pain was less and he was calm. That was the whole idea, right? He couldn't live without them. Every time he'd tried to go off them, his pain was unbearable. It was the only thing that kept him sane. He shook the bottle again and placed it back into his jacket pocket. He wasn't going to wean himself off of them. He didn't have to. He'd never had any problem on them before. There was no problem now.

Wilson was an idiot. He loved Cate, he was extremely attracted to her, he wanted to make love to her and that was the difference. It wasn't just fucking like the other women he dated or paid for, for that matter. Those women he didn't care about. They came and went and he never had any connection to them. What he had with Cate was real love, real commitment. It meant something and to be completely intimate with someone meant being completely vulnerable to them. That was where he was hung up. He would have to completely surrender himself to her and that was a difficult concept for him even before his infarction. Now, after everything, it was almost impossible for him. He was trying. God, he was trying. He'd never met anyone like her. He loved her. He had opened up his home and his life to her. She was everything to him. But… he was still learning how to trust. He thought back to that day in the jogging park when she equated him to a dog. He chuckled to himself. He should have been insulted but he wasn't because she was right. He was like a Rottweiler that was afraid to trust and he lashed out at anyone and everyone who threatened him whether it was real or not. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to be that version of himself, that guy that hurt first and asked questions later. She deserved so much more than that. She told him she would wait, that she would be there and he believed her. Her sincerity and her love had opened a crack in his armor that was slowly but surely widening enough to completely let her in. It was a slow process, but it was happening. He could see himself changing and for someone who steadfastly believed that people don't change that was an Earth shattering revelation.

His eyes were getting heavy and he drifted off to sleep. Revelations were heavy issues to deal with even when he wasn't high on Vicodin. The fact that he even admitted to himself that change was a possibility was enough for one day.


	46. Chapter 46: You'll Never Guess

Sessions 46: You'll Never Guess

_Author's note: A little disclaimer here…I'm pulling all of this medical info out of my ass… well at the very least from this awesome site I stumbled on online: ..... Check it out for all sorts of symptoms and things it "Could be" if the first diagnosis is wrong which is always how it works in our friendly neighborhood diagnostics team. I personally could give a rat's ass but our Hottie mcHottie doc is a doctor after all and should sometimes actually, you know…work. Plus he needed a lame ass "real" excuse to not go to dinner with Cate and her dad…I know he stalling like a child but what did you guys expect? He had to be drugged to go to his own father's funeral… geesh!_

House wrote the possible diagnoses on the board as they discussed the result of their patient's tests. Diabetic peripheral neuropathy, Lupus, MS, and Guillain-Barre. If he was a betting man, and he was, his money was on Guillain-Barre.

"Blood glucose levels were normal, It's not gestational diabetes, " Thirteen insisted.

"What else causes peripheral neuropathy?" House asked looking at the team.

"Scleraderma, " Taub said

"No, skin is fine, no rashes " Kutner shot down.

"Sarcoidosis, " Thirteen offered.

"Nope, lungs are clear, " Foreman stated.

"Polyarteritis nodosa, " House threw out there.

"No Abdominal pain, " Taub said.

"Tumor, " Kutner proposed.

"Cancer, never a good outcome, " House said with a grimace.

"If we're still looking at the Lupus and MS with the Guillan-Barre, we need should do a full body MRI which will rule out lesions in the spine and find any tumors, " Thirteen suggested. House nodded and tapped the edge of his marker against his forehead in thought.

"Check the CSF for elevated protein levels and IGG for MS and Guillain-Barre, " House ordered. "And someone do an ANA and ESR to check for Lupus."

"Any word from the husband?" Foreman asked form his end of the table.

Taub shifted his position. "He is in Colorado on business and is taking the first flight back tonight. I did talk to the woman who brought her in, who is apparently a friend and co-worker. She's had no accidents and trauma in the last few months. Last week however, she declined to go to a prenatal yoga class that she's been attending twice a week since the beginning of the month. She begged off because she had a headache. Other than that she's a fitness and health nut. She eats no processed food, or cafeteria food, carries her own filtered water around school. And takes her prenatal vitamins religiously."

"Taub, you and I are going to go to the home before the husband gets back and get for environmental toxins, " House said. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him from the seats. "What?"

"You're going to go to the home?" Foreman demanded suspiciously.

House lowered his eyes away from his searching glance. "Who's left? Thirteen and Kutner are doing the advanced blood work and CFS, you are going to do the MRI. And you can't let a cripple do a B and E alone so Taub's with me. Besides who's gonna believe two guys in a Beemer are breaking and entering. If you go, the cops'll be all over your ass."

"I drive a Beemer too, asshole, " Foreman said with a roll of his eyes. "You're the one with the busted ass car."

Thirteen and Kutner choked back their laughs and quickly turned around when he glared at them. "Go start the tests, " he ordered harshly. Why did they always have to question him? He stood for a second as everyone scrambled to do as they were told. At least he could still put the fear of being fired into them when he raised his voice.

Limping into his office he exchanged his blazer for his pea coat and met Taub outside of the glass doors. Taub fixed his wool overcoat over his ever present suit.

"What do you expect to find in the home?" the little man asked carefully.

"I don't know, " he said moving over to the elevator. "If she's a vitamin freak maybe she overdosed thinking she was doing the right thing."

"Maybe we should consider an amnio to check the levels of the baby, " Taub suggested.

House shook his head. "We need to rule out infection first. We can't go poking around a risking infecting the fetus."

"The fetus, she's in her second trimester, " Taub said as they got into the elevator. House pushed the down button with his cane.

"Clear line, birth, before that, it's a fetus, " he explained.

"I take it you don't want kids, " Taub asked.

House shrugged. Kids had never been a blip on his radar. "Nah, never really thought about it. You've been married for a while… what about you?"

Taub tilted his head in a shrug. "We've always liked being able to do what we wanted, go where we wanted without being tied down." He laughed to himself a little. "It's kind of shallow I guess."

House nodded. "If you're busy shallowly philandering on your wife, kids aren't a smart addition to the equation."

"No, they're not, " Taub agreed carefully. "But, I'm not doing that anymore."

"So you're ready to be a daddy?"

"Maybe, " Taub nodded considering his response.

The doors to the elevator opened and they exited the elevator into the hospital lobby. The clinic doors opened and Cate came through wearing her lab coat over her dress slacks and sweater. House's chest squeezed at the mere sight of her but he was hoping he'd be able to make a clean get away. It was four o'clock and she was no doubt anticipating his answer about dinner.

"Hey, " she said coming up to him. She placed her hand on his arm and her eyebrows drew together in confusion. "You guys off to some where?"

Taub backed away slightly with a sheepish look on his face and House rolled his eyes. _Thanks for the back up, Himie…_

"We have to go to our patient's home to search for environmental and edible toxins, " he said as if it we a normal occurrence. It was; he was just never the one to do it.

She crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him. She was trying to determine if he was lying. He wasn't really lying; it was a version of the truth. "Does your patient know you're doing this?"

Taub shuffled his tassel loafered feet and House's lips formed a wry smirk. "Not really." _Damn, why couldn't he lie to her? It was so frustrating._

"You're breaking and entering?" she said in a harsh whisper as she moved in closer so no one would hear.

"Not so much, " he said pulling the patient's keys out of his pocket.

She rolled her eyes and placed her hand frustratedly on her forehead. "If your patient doesn't know you're going, how'd you get her keys?"

"Personal effects in the ER, " he said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, well, that makes me feel so much better, " she griped at him. "You know we're supposed to go to dinner tonight with my father?"

Taub fixed him with a look that rivaled Cate's. House ignored him and put on a faux-disappointed face. "Oh, that was tonight? I'm sorry, but…pregnant patient, could be dying… " he held his hands out in an apologetic shrug.

Her eyes narrowed and her jaw set firmly. "I'm sure."

He placed his hand on her arms and rubbed them cajolingly. "Next time?" He looked at her with big puppy dog eyes.

"Next time is Thanksgiving, House, " she said pointedly. He batted his eyelashes at her and smiled rightly at her and her chilly façade melted away. She wasn't really mad at him. Irritated was a better description.

"Fine, but you owe me, " she said pointing a finger at him. "We're doing the whole thing… turkey, mashed potatoes, people over, eating at our new table."

He loved when she got like this, indignantly demanding, telling him how it was going to be. She was so cute when she was like this. He bit back a smile because she'd be pissed if she knew what he was thinking. He pretended to look properly chagrinned. "Yes. Of course, whatever you want."

He saw Taub give him a nod of approval over her shoulder as he pulled her in to place a kiss on her lips.

"And you're not getting out of it, I don't care who's dying, " she said.

He held up two fingers. "Boy scouts' honor."

Taub cleared his throat. "It's three fingers, House."

House rolled his eyes. "Whatever… you get the point."

Cate laughed and placed both hands on his face to pull him in for a kiss. "You're too naughty to be a Boy Scout."

He raised his eyebrows at her and grinned. "You know it."

Taub cleared his throat again, this time to remind them they were in the hospital lobby. Cate stepped back out of his embrace with a lovely blush gracing her cheeks. "I'll be home around ten."

He nodded. The sound of her voice music in his ears. "Be careful driving."

"I will, " she promised and he left the hospital with Taub.

"You're starting to get the hang of it, " Taub said to him as they made their way to his luxury sized BMW. House waited as Taub clicked the key fob to disengage the alarm and unlock the car. He shook his head and wondered once again at the former plastic surgeon's choice to willingly give up his chosen career for his wife, how he chose to atone for his sins by sacrificing his livelihood. It was an uncharacteristic and selfless move on Taub's part and House oddly respected him for that.

"She makes it easy, " House said taking no responsibility for the obvious changes in him.

Taub eyed him from over the car. "When they're the right one, everything is easy."

House nodded. His guru was right.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate sipped her wine letting the day wash away form her as she swallowed the smooth merlot. Her dad had agreed to meet her at a restaurant here in Princeton because she had promised him that she was going to try and get House to come out with them. But, so much for that. He had successfully weaseled his way out of the meeting. Sneaky little bugger… Dad was not pleased.

"Does he ever plan on meeting me?" her dad asked over his pint of beer.

"Dad, he's very busy, " she said lamely. "He has a patient who life is in the balance."

"You said he had four doctors who work under him, " he said. "Doesn't that mean he delegates and supervises?"

"Yes, sometimes. They work as a team to bounce ideas off of each other, but ultimately he makes the decisions." What she didn't tell him was that he was out committing a misdemeanor instead of sitting down to dinner like a normal doctor.

"Is it always like this, " he asked.

"Yeah, pretty much. I told you his practice is very specialized. People come from all over the world just to see him, " she explained.

"He's that good, " he said disbelievingly.

"Yes, he's that good." She sighed and made a pretence of looking at the menu.

"Does he make a lot of money, " he asked opening his own menu.

"I guess, he's the head of his department, " she shrugged.

"You're moving in with him and you don't know, " he said to her pointedly.

She titled her head. "We don't talk about that stuff."

"Well, I would think that once you decide to move your life into a man's apartment that you would ask those kinds of questions, " he stated.

"Dad, I know the important things about him, " she said. "The tilapia looks good."

"Catie, don't push this aside, " he warned.

"I'm not, I'm postponing until after we order, " she said with a smirk.

He grimaced at her and reluctantly looked at his menu. "I don't like fish and you know that."

"You really should be careful with how much red meat you eat, because I didn't like the LDL levels last time you were checked."

"My cholesterol is fine, " he griped. "I'm not going to start eating bird food just because some number says I might need to."

"It's more than just a number, Dad, " she said to him.

"Oh yeah? How much you're boyfriend makes for a living is more than just a number, sweetie."

"What do you care? He's a world famous doctor, dad. I'm sure he makes enough money to not sell crack on the street, " she sniped.

"I need to know if he can take care of you, " he said plainly.

Cate rolled her eyes. "Dad, in case you've forgotten is the twenty-first century and I am a doctor myself. I don't need anyone to take care of me."

He leveled his coal black eyes at her. "Maybe so, but forgive your old man for being a little old fashioned. I'd like to know that the man my only daughter is living with, and not married to by the way, can at least take care of her if she needs it."

The waitress came effectively cutting off her retort she had dangling on her lips. Plastering a polite smile on her face she ordered the tilapia because it was the last thing she comprehend on the menu before he started in on her again. He father ordered a steak smothered in mushrooms and fried onions without a vegetable just to spite her. God, the two of them were more similar that they knew. _How in the world did she pick a man with a stubborn streak just like her father?_

Cate took another sip of her wine as the waitress left to put in their order. She loved her father dearly but sometimes his questioning could be so tiresome. But, she supposed it was coming sooner or later because of her change of residence and the fact that House had completely put her between a rock and a hard place by avoiding a simple meeting with him. Now she was left holding the bag to explain. She knew he had difficulty with situations like this but, she really hadn't expected it to be this difficult. She should have known better tough considering how he had to be drugged and kidnapped to attend his own father's funeral. _Hmm, maybe that was an option_… she thought jokingly to herself.

"So what's his family like, " Dad asked.

"I haven't met them either, " she said pointedly indicating to him that this wasn't just a one-sided slight. "His father just passed away a month ago. And there was no love lost between them."

He father nodded. "Why? Or don't you know."

She chose her words carefully when she explained. "His father was a Marine corps pilot. They moved around a lot when he was a kid. There were a lot of expectations that Greg didn't fit into. Tensions developed that couldn't be resolved."

"What about the mother, " he asked. "How does she fit into all of this?"

"She's in Virginia where they retired, " she said. "He seems to have good relationship with her, maybe more strained because of the father but from what he's said about her, she seems like a nice woman."

"So he's not close with his family, " Dad observed. "That explains some."

"He's not your typical guy, I explained that before, " she reminded him.

"You're sure he cares for you, " he asked.

"He loves me, Dad, " she assured him. "And I love him."

He narrowed his eyes at her like he always did hoping to gain entrance into the inner workings of her brain. He was stumped by this, she knew, but it wasn't his call and he was having a problem with that.

"I want to see him on Thanksgiving, " he told her.

"We're going to do something at our place, " she explained. "He promised me since he skipped out on this. I'd like to have some of our friends over too and make it special."

"Well, he better keep his promises, " her father warned. She wasn't sure exactly what he could do about it if Greg didn't follow through, but the tone meant he'd try his damnedest.

Cate finished her glass of wine and motioned for the waitress to bring a refill.

"Have you heard from your Aunt Ellie, she's already planning Christmas, " her father mentioned.

Cate shook her head. "Dad, please, one holiday at a time. I can't even think about that right now."

"You're mother's sister is not one to be put off, " he warned.

"I know, " Cate said. "Baby steps, ok?" Christmas at her Aunt's was a huge Italian tradition on her mother's side which would have House flying to another country to escape if he even caught wind of it. That was something that needed to be broached very, very carefully. Bribery and some kind of favors would surely be involved. "I heard she had you meet a friend of hers from church?"

He father looked away and avoided eye contact with her.

"Did you go?"

"I did."

"And?"

"She was nice, " he said noncommittally.

"Did you have anything in common, was she attractive, will you see her again?"

He struggled with trying not to look at her when he answered her. He was uncomfortable talking about this with her, but Cate wouldn't let him off the hook since he felt it was perfectly appropriate to ask her questions like these. "She was nice, attractive and maybe, I haven't decided yet."

"Well, that's good."

"I don't think your aunt should be setting me up on blind dates, " he said grumpily.

"Dad, it's been five years since Mom died, " Cate said gently.

"Ellie is your mother's sister, it's strange, " he complained.

"She loves you, because of Mom and wants you to be happy, " Cate told him. "She's like a sister to you."

"I just feels like a betrayal to your mother, " he said in a small voice.

"I know, but don't you think that Mom would want you to be happy and to continue living, " she asked.

"I am living, I do things, I hang out with the guys, I'm perfectly happy."

"Yes, but companionship with a woman is different than drinking with the guys, " Cate retorted.

He shrugged and waved his hand dismissively at her. The server came then with their food and they ate continuing with small talk about his buddies. She told him about her new friendships with the Thirteen, Cameron and Cuddy. He seemed genuinely happy for her that she was settling back into life away from the South Pole. He would throw a few barbs in about House as they talked but she expertly deflected them back on him much to his frustration. Soon their plates were bussed and they were ordering desert. She had decided that she was going to bring home a piece of death by chocolate cake for Greg when her cell phone rang. The number came up as blocked. That was odd.

"Hello, " she answered.

"It's me, " Greg's voice came over the earpiece.

"Where are you? How come you're not on your cell?"

He chuckled flatly. "You're not going to believe this…"

Her eyes widened nervously at the tone of his voice. "What?"

"I promise, one day when you look back at this, you'll be able to remember it with a laugh, " he said into the phone.

"Greg, what happened, " she said forcefully, unfortunately unable to not alert her father due to the short three feet of distance that separated them with the table.

"I need you to come bail me out."


	47. Chapter 47: Bail Out

Sessions 47: Bail Out

_A/N: Well here's the highly anticipated meeting. Hope it doesn't disappoint… Enjoy!_

"Dad, I really don't want to hear about it right now, " Cate said as they entered the squad room of the Princeton-Plainsboro police department.

"Unlawful trespassing is a class four crime by New Jersey Statute, " her father intoned as he guided her along by the elbow. "That's not a petty crime, sweetheart. That's $10,000 bail."

"What do you want me to do just leave him here, " she snapped at him. _Figures he would know what the code was for breaking and entering in the next state over from where he lived. Damn, why did this have to happen tonight of all nights? _

"_This is how it is, if you're going to be with House…" Damn him…_

"No, I don't want you to leave him here but you need to understand how serious this is, " he stopped before reaching the officer's desk. He was all cop right now. His demeanor had changed the minute they walked into the building like he had passed through a magic portal that had transformed him into supercop. She never really had the opportunity to see him at work before and truth be told she was glad for that because he was quite formidable. If she didn't feel enough like an errant teenager when she had to explain the situation at the restaurant, then she really did right now.

"Dad, I know how serious this is. Right now all I want to do is get him out of here and go home, " she said pleadingly.

"Don Milton? Is that you?" came a deep voice from across the small room by precinct standards.

Her father swung around to see who had recognized him. A smile cracked on his stony features and he went immediately over to the tall man and extended his hand. "Michael? Little Mikey Tritter?"

The men shook hands and clapped each other on the back in a show of manly greeting for a long lost brother in arms and Cate impatiently tapped her foot hoping this wasn't going to become some long drawn out process. _Once again, figures he'd know some body here. This was mortifying. She might actually kill House when she got him out of here._

"That's Detective Michael Tritter now, " the light haired Neanderthal said proudly. What was it about law enforcement that brought out the humans who were still physically on the lower evolution scale?

"Excellent, that's great, son. Good for you, " her father beamed with pride. "Catie, look who it is."

Reluctantly Cate moved over to the desk to appease her father knowing that it was best to just get these unnecessary pleasantries over with fast so they could move on and get the hell out of there. "Hi, " she said distractedly clutching the purse strap over her shoulder.

"Detective Michal Tritter, you remember my daughter Catie, " he father said.

"Dr. Cate Milton, " she said with marked patience and a sidelong glance at her father for giving the Neanderthal the respect of his title and not her.

"Mikey here is Sergeant Steve Tritter's son from the 12th precinct, " her father explained. Cate smiled a thin smile and shook her head not really recalling who this person was. "Aw come on, you don't remember, the Tritters used to come over to the house for barbeques in the summertime on Fourth of July and Labor Day. They moved to Jersey in '76."

Cate shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry… it was a long time ago."

Det. Tritter's round face cracked into a wide grin and he pointed a finger at her. "No, no, I remember we used to run around your backyard and play Red Rover. And you could never break through because you were so little."

Oh God, it couldn't be… That was eons ago. Cate's eyes widened as a flood of childhood memories came over her. She opened her mouth and grunted. "I could never get through because you and your huge brother were like line backers and would always push me to the ground. I remember exactly who you are now." She narrowed her eyes at him. She hated this kid. He was huge bully who had now grown into a behemoth of a man. And a cop. Perfect.

Det. Tritter smiled at her with a look of fond appreciation. "So, little Catie Milton, you're a doctor now?"

"Oh, yeah, she's an excellent doctor, " he father added proudly.

She shuffled a little under the detective's cool gaze. "Yes. A psychiatrist."

"Oh, " he said civilly. It was reaction she was used to. Generally people who needed the practice of psychiatry tended to not want to stand to close lest the shrinkage rub off on them by sheer proximity. His face changed and he put on his friendly smile again. He was looking at her with his small piercing eyes and she felt a little ill at ease with his obvious attention. "Well, maybe we could grab dinner sometime to catch up and reminisce?"

"What a great idea, " Dad said excitedly clapping the detective on the back jovially with a hearty laugh.

Cate's mouth dropped open and then she snapped it shut and plastered on a smile. She was not going to have dinner with this guy. _Ever_. "I'm sorry, I don't think so." She glared at her father. "Dad, I think you're forgetting why we're here."

He shook his head. "No I'm not."

"Dad!" He patience was wearing remarkably thin. Her father was actually trying to set her up with this guy. While they were here to bail her live-in boyfriend out of jail. _Could he be any more obtuse?_

He gave her a placating look out of the corners of his eyes. "A couple more minutes in jail isn't going to kill him while we finish talking to an old family friend."

Det. Tritter's ears perked up and he leaned his towering frame as casually as he could against his wooden desk. "You're here to bail someone out?"

"Yes…"

"No…"

"Yes, " Cate hissed with a glare at her father. She took a calming breath before she completely lost her mind and smiled pleasantly once again back at the detective. There was no sense in being rude. In fact maybe he could be of assistance. "I'm here to bail out my boyfriend and his colleague."

Det. Tritter's face slowly pulled into a devious and dare she say, creepy grin. "Really?"

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"

Cate spun around on her booted heal at the sound of House's gravely voice.

"Just turn me around and bring me back to my cell…I'd rather stay in jail."

"What? House shut up…" came from Taub who was being marched behind him with his hands cuffed in front of him just like Greg's. The two of them looked a little worse for the wear. Well at least Taub did, Greg looked as rumpled as he did every other day. He was in pain, however. She could see it in the set of his jaw.

"Well, well, if it isn't the insufferable Dr. House, " Det. Tritter drawled.

"And if it isn't the caveman from the Geico commercials, " House shot back as the patrolman pushed him along into the squad room indifferent to his hindered walking.

"You know this guy, " her father chimed in to Tritter, observing the 'prisoner's' as they entered.

Cate ignored the exchange and went over to hug Greg. She had just put her hand on his wrist by his cuffs but was stopped by the officer. "Ma'am please."

She pulled her hand back and House smiled down at her to reassure her. "I'm fine."

The detective approached them with his hands hooked on his belt. "I see you've got yourself a new woman to fight your battles for you, " Tritter taunted.

House rolled his eyes and then glared at the large detective. "I was gonna call your mom, but she was busy being a crack-whore."

Tritter launched himself at House and was barely held back by her father while the uniformed officer pulled House back by the scruff of his neck bumping him into Taub and nearly sending the smaller man flying into the desk behind them.

"Hey, " Cate shouted as she was jostled out of the way by the confrontation .

"Enough, " her father bellowed. Tritter shook of her father and adjusted his sport coat.

She flashed her eyes at House and shook her head. "Aren't you in enough trouble already?"

"Could you spare me the lecture right now, " House said to her with an irritation in his voice. She knew this was not a comfortable situation for him. Between being in jail for a few hours, not having his Vicodin, the embarrassment of having to meet her father this way, things were definitely not going his way. And to top it all off, Det. Tritter, nee little Mikey Tritter her old playmate, was apparently the guy he had faced off with two years ago when he had hit rock bottom.

Cate directed her attention to the uniformed cop. "I just want to pay the bail and get them out of here."

"I'm processing the paperwork now, " the young officer said as he sat both House and Taub down in front of the desk. He uncuffed and recuffed the two men to the arms of their respective chairs.

"Is that really necessary, " she asked pointing at the cuffs. "They're doctors for crying out loud."

"Um, yes and it's procedure ma'am, " he replied and busied himself with the computer.

"We wouldn't want the criminals trying to escape, " Tritter said snidely.

"They're not criminals, " Cate snapped.

"Catie, " Dad warned. "Let them do their job."

Cate looked away from the reproachful glare of her father and gave an apologetic look at both Greg and Taub. House seethed like a caged animal in his chair and Taub sat quietly observing the situation with a calmness that baffled her. Did that man ever get ruffled by anything?

"Look, can I try calling my wife again, " Taub asked politely. Apparently he had yet to be able to reach her. The officer handed him the phone and he dialed.

"So what exactly did you do now, House, " Tritter asked smugly.

House ignored him and continued to stare ahead of him. He massaged his leg with the palm of his hand. Cate could tell that his pain was increasing rapidly. He needed his Vicodin. And she made a mental note to keep some in her purse just incase of future situations… like this one.

"2C:18-3, Unlicensed entry, " the patrolman provided.

Tritter laughed a merciless chuckle. "Oh, that's rich. What the hell were you trying to accomplish?"

"What, are we going to play interrogation, now? Want to beat a confession out of me?" House griped. "Careful, I bruise easily."

"I think you're in a whole world of trouble son, " Cate's father stepped forward, "And you'd better show some respect."

"Excuse me, who are you, " House demanded glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

Cate stepped between them horrified that this was the first impression that either of them had of each other. "Greg, this is my father, Det. Don Milton. Dad this is Dr. Greg House."

Det. Tritter laughed out loud not bothering in the slightest to hide his complete amusement with the situation. "Looks like you're battin' a thousand tonight, Doc. Yet another unforgettable first impression."

"So Doctor, you going to answer the man's question? What were you doing trespassing in someone's house, " Dad questioned.

"Don't I get a lawyer, " House asked.

"Do you need a lawyer, " her father questioned back.

"Nobody needs a lawyer, I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation, right?" she said with a pointed glare at House.

"Yeah, House, let's hear this perfectly good explanation for trespassing in a stranger's home, " Tritter urged with barely controlled mirth.

House sighed heavily in irritation. "It wasn't trespassing. I had keys to the home, there was no unlawful entry."

"We just didn't have the alarm code, " Taub said as he hung up the phone. "I left another message."

"I told you she's doing her tennis instructor, " House said to his employee.

Taub sighed heavily. "My wife is not doing her tennis instructor. She's out with her book club." He gave House an irritated roll of the eyes and then brought his attention to the officers around him. "We were looking for environmental and ingestible toxins that might have caused our patient's current predicament."

"And you couldn't do this when someone was home to let you in?" Dad questioned.

House rolled his eyes at having to justify himself. "No. It needed to be done immediately and I need my phone because I have to call the hospital, " he called over to the young officer essentially dismissing her father.

"See Don, Dr. House's special brand of doctoring means he thinks he lives above the law and can do what ever he wants in the name of saving lives, and his own ass for that matter," Tritter spoke up by way of exaggerated explanation.

"That's not true, " Cate defended.

"Then what would you call it, Catie, " Tritter challenged. House's eyes narrowed at him into an ice blue stare.

"He had her keys, do you think he just went into her effects and stole them, " Cate proposed as if that were completely preposterous and not the actual truth.

"Oh Catie, you'd be surprised at what he'd actually steal, " Tritter commented.

House grunted in disgust from behind her. "Don't call her Catie. As a matter of fact don't talk to her at all, " he threatened and looked back to the uniform at the computer. "I need my phone!"

"Sorry, can't have your possessions back until after bail is paid, " the uniformed officer stated.

Cate took out her phone out of her purse and handed it to him. Tritter almost snatched it out of his hand but she stepped in front of him to block his meaty hand. She raised her chin at him in defiance. "His patient may die if you don't let him call."

"He's still in custody. I'm sure there are other doctors capable of handling the situation, " her father said putting his hand out to get her to back down.

"You'd be surprised, " House said with an odd expression on his face like he'd just had a déjà vu. He shook it off and said, "I need to know what my team is doing with the patient."

"Dad, please, " she warned.

"Did you actually find anything at the house, " her father asked.

"No, nothing. We didn't have enough time to do a real search…" Taub explained.

"Because the boys in blue showed up and hauled us out of there, " House complained and then turned his attention to the person on the other end of the phone. "Foreman we ran into a little problem…"

"And who are you?" Dad asked looking atTaub.

"Dr. Chris Taub. I work for Dr. House. Nice to meet you, sir." He stuck his free hand out to shake her father's hand in greeting. He father returned his hand shake pleased that somebody at least had some manners.

"Will this patient die if you don't find something in the house, " her father asked him hoping to get a more straightforward answer.

"Yes. She and her unborn child might die, " he said gravely.

House switched the phone to speaker as Foreman went on to explain the current status of the patient. "The patient now has ascending paralysis, photophobia and delirium. Brudzinski's signs are indicating increased intracranial pressure. We had to intubate an hour ago."

"Start IV manitol to relieve the ICP, " House said and Cate had to look away from him as his eyes met hers. She crossed her arms over her and faced away from the desk as she listened to the conversation.

"We did, there's no response, " Thirteen's voice carried over the speaker.

House sighed. "Foreman prep her surgery and put in a shunt to relieve the pressure."

"What does that mean, " her father asked her on the side.

She looked at her dad for a moment. "It means they have to drill into her head to relieve the cerebral fluid build up." Her dad's eyes went soft for a moment and she knew that he was thinking the exact same thing that was circling around her own mind. She absently touched her finger to her own reminder of just how serious intracranial pressure could be and then brought her fingers to her lips realizing what she had just involuntarily done. She turned her attention back to Greg. He touched her cold fingers briefly with his free hand and then leaned into the phone. "Kutner, get permission from the husband to get me back into the home. We need to find the toxin that's causing this."

"He's not landing until 11:15pm, " the young doctor said.

Cate looked at her watch. That was two hours from now.

"That's just perfect… then when he lands, you can have him call the Princeton-Plainsboro PD to find out why his pregnant wife's in coma, " he said angrily and then snapped the phone shut.

"You're not going back in that house without permission from the husband, " Tritter said. "I don't give a rat's ass who you think you are."

Cate glared at Tritter. It was like he was deriving some sick kind of pleasure from keeping House detained and unable to do his job. House tilted his head and drew his eyebrows together in contemplation. He looked lost in thought and then a light bulb went on his head.

"Taub, did you see any pet rodents in the house before we were arrested, " he asked.

Taub shook his head. "No. But I didn't make it very far into the house."

"I saw a bag of cedar chips on the dining room table, the kind used for bedding in hamster cages, " House said. "It's Lymphocytic Choriomeningitis."

"That's rare in domesticated rodents, " Taub said shaking his head indecisively.

"But it does happen. She teaches second grade right?"

"Yeah, " Taub affirmed.

"Then I bet you our bail money there's a furry little rodent in the classroom, that's infected." He held out his hand to Cate. "I need the phone."

She handed it back to him from her purse and he dialed Foreman again. This time he reached Kutner because Foreman was already in the process of scheduling the brain shunt. "It's Lymphocytic Choriomeningitis. Start her on IV ribavirin and broad spectrum antibiotics. Continue with the shunt to alleviate the pressure. As soon as we're out of here, I'll be back."

"How could you possibly know that's what it is, " her dad questioned.

"We don't, all of the symptoms and the progression of the disease fit, " House said. "If she gets better with treatment, then that's what it is."

"Aren't all those medicines bad for the baby, " her father asked.

"If the mother's dead, it's bad for the baby too, " he answered him flatly. Cate smiled at his matter-of-fact approach to medicine as her father and Det. Tritter stared at him with bemused expressions. "Now can we get this show over, so we can get back to the hospital to make sure that doesn't happen?"

Just then a petite well-dressed blonde woman with a bobbed haircut walked into the room from the outside hallway. She held her arms out and rushed over to Taub. Evidently his wife had received his messages. "Oh my God, Chris, are you alright."

The uniformed officer held out his hand to her too. "Ma'am I'm sorry you cannot touch him until he is released into your custody."

Taub consoled his wife. "Deborah, it's okay. I'm fine."

"I told you one day you were going to get arrested working for him, " she said with a sidelong glance at House who smirked wryly.

"It's fine. That's why I have that cash put aside in the safe, " Taub said.

House looked at Taub, "You keep bail money in your safe?"

Taub shrugged. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. There's enough for both of us."

House nodded appreciatively at Taub's preparedness and apparent generosity.

"You regularly commit felonies while you're working?" Cate's dad asked incredulously.

"Oh yeah all the time…" Tritter said.

"No it's not like that…" Taub said

"Nah…" House said.

"Dad, this is not a normal occurrence, " Cate said.

He stared at all four of them searching their expressions for some semblance of the truth. The expression on his face told Cate that he knew that the truth was somewhere between both extremes.

The uniformed officer printed out the release papers and removed their personal effects from the plastic bags that were sitting on his desk. House rubbed his thigh harder knowing that his Vicodin was just a few feet away but far enough out of reach that he couldn't have it. His cuffed hand white-knuckled the arm of the office chair as he attempted to alleviate his mounting discomfort. Cate's heart went out to him and she silently willed him some of her strength to just hold on a few more minutes. The officer passed the clipboard to House with a pen for him to sign and did the same for Taub.

"That's $2000, " he announced waiting patiently for someone to hand over the cash.

Deborah went into her purse and took out an envelope full of cash and counted out two thousand dollars in hundreds. Cate shook her head at how surreal this entire experience was. Never in her life did she have to bail anyone out of jail and here House was technically arrested twice in that last month, between tonight and the warrant for Wilson on the trip to his father's funeral. Life with him was a veritable rollercoaster and yet, she had to admit, it was kind of exciting. Another mental note to herself along with the Vicodin in her purse, it was a good idea to keep bail money stashed somewhere for just these kind of nights. _My God, her mother must be rolling over in her grave…_

The officer uncuffed both of the prisoner and they both stood. House's leg buckled under him and he caught himself with a growl at those who mistakenly held out their hands to stabilize him. Knowing he would never accept anyone's assistance, Cate took the plastic bag from the desk instead and searched for the pill vial. Without a word, she removed two pills and held them out for him under the scrutiny of Det. Tritter. He dry swallowed the two immediately with an imperceptible nod of thanks in her direction.

"Vicodin?" Det. Tritter inquired.

"Yes, " House said. "Real prescription and everything." His eyes challenged but Cate could see a little fear behind the icy hatred, as well. Her father eyed her curiously from his position by Tritter and she leveled her eyes at him challenging him to question her in front of everyone. He silently backed down but she knew she would have some explaining to do later.

She grabbed Greg's cane from behind the officer's desk and handed it to him. "Come on let's go, " she urged.

Her father stuck out his hand and Det. Tritter shook it cordially. "It's good to see you again, Mikey. We'll be in touch, " he said.

Det. Tritter smiled deviously, "I look forward to it."

House grabbed her hand and practically dragged her out of the building. Once on the sidewalk he pulled her into a tight embrace and was about to kiss her when everyone else's sudden appearance stopped him. He pressed his lips chastely to her forehead instead and whispered, "I'm sorry."

She smiled wryly at him and placed her hand on his chest. He took her fingers in his and made a face. "Put gloves on, it's cold." He looked at Taub. "We have to go."

"I can't get my car until tomorrow, " he said.

"Drop me at home and take my car, " Deborah said resignedly receiving a kiss on the cheek from her husband.

House nodded and pushed his hands into her coat pockets to retrieve her gloves because she wasn't doing as she was told fast enough. He glanced at the mittens he'd bought her and smiled as he slipped the warm knit over her hands giving her a quick kiss. "I'll be home late." He leaned close to her ear. "I love you."

Cate felt her eyes mist over and she inhaled a deep sigh. He was off in a flash followed by Taub and his wife leaving Cate alone with her father in his wake.

"Catie, Catie, " her father murmured.

"Dad, " she cautioned turning away from the sight of House limping away from her into the night.

He shook his head. "You always did have a thing for the bad boys."

"He's a good man, " she said.

"He's good to you, at least that much I can see, " he said reluctantly. "Will he really save that girl?"

"He'll do anything and everything he can, " she stated. "It's how he works. He saved me. Didn't he?"

"I suspect it might actually be the other way around, " he said with an ironic smile.

Cate smiled and took her father's proffered arm as they walked back to her truck. His statement wasn't far from the truth… at all.


	48. Chapter 48: Showdown

Sessions 48: Showdown

House rolled over to pull his warm snuggle partner against him but woke to find the other side of the bed cold and empty. His hand felt aimlessly around the rumpled sheets not finding his desired companion. He could feel her warmth still on the surface of the sheets so she must have just recently gotten out of bed. He briefly wondered what time it was as he cracked his one eye open because the room was still relatively dark. It had to be around 6:00AM. He surmised that she must have had to pee. This was around her normal time to go. He rolled flat on his stomach and buried his face into her pillow inhaling the familiar scent of her hair. He was drifting off to sleep again when he heard it. There was a violent retching sound coming from the bathroom. He picked his head up and listened. He heard it again and he immediately heaved himself out of bed ignoring the riot of pain that shot through his leg to go see if she was ok.

He ambled heavily over to the bathroom to find her kneeling over the toilet vomiting the entire contents of her stomach into the bowl. He moved over to her as quickly as he could and grabbed her hair gently pulling it back away from her face. She was sweating and shaky and pale in the harsh bathroom light and he pitied her wretched state. He'd been there more times than he cared to admit when coming off of Vicodin. She heaved once more into the toilet and then fell back onto the tile floor.

"Please kill me, " she whimpered pathetically.

He took a wash cloth and wet it with cold water and pressed it to the back of her neck. "What happened?" Carefully he knelt down next to her and touched his knuckles to her forehead. Her skin felt clammy to the touch and she looked like death warmed over.

"I don't know, I woke up feeling a little nauseous and came in for some water, " she said weakly. "As soon as I drank something, it started."

"Well, we know you're not pregnant, " he quipped. At that she rolled her eyes and then immediately hurled two more times into the toilet. He rubbed her back as she coughed over the bowl. "Come on it wasn't that bad of a joke."

She clutched the sides of the commode for dear life and glared at him from under her sweaty bangs. "I think I just puked stuff I ate for lunch in second grade and your doing stand-up?"

"Just trying to lighten the mood, " he said sheepishly.

"You can do that by putting me out of my misery, " she retorted as she flushed the toilet collapsing back onto her butt on the floor. "Little fucking snot nosed brat…"

House looked at her oddly checking her pupils for signs of delirium. "What are you talking about?"

"In the clinic… seven year old kid… puking from every orifice…" she muttered. "There should be a law against that."

He grimaced. "Ah, yes, the my child is spewing please make him stop, Doctor. Why people don't get that virus's run their course is beyond me."

Her head lolled to the side and he very awkwardly tried to hoist himself into a standing position. He re-wet the wash cloth and wiped the cool water on her face helping to revive her. "You think you're empty?"

She nodded weakly and dragged herself off the floor. He wished he could have held out a hand to help her stand but with his leg flaring up like it was he was lucky he got off the floor himself. Gingerly, he wrapped his arm around her waist for support and helped her back to bed tucking her in.

"When did you get home, " she asked peering at him through heavily lidded eyes.

"A little after two, " he said adjusting her pillows.

"Is she going to make it," she inquired of his patient.

He nodded though he knew she really couldn't see him. "Yeah, she's going to be fine."

"And the baby?"

"Baby too."

"Good."

She sighed heavily and fell into a deep sleep. He brushed her damp hair away from her pale face and watched her sleep for a minute before he trod slowly back into the bathroom. He rested his hands on the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment.

Last night was one of the shittiest nights he'd had in a long time. Nothing went right for him. All he had wanted to do was avoid meeting Cate's dad for just a little while longer and get his patient healthy and on her way home. But no, he had gotten arrested because neither he nor Taub were smart enough to steal the alarm code along with her keys from her purse. And because of that, he had to meet Cate's father with handcuffs on and in one foul-ass mood. And then on top of all that, he had to see that mother fucker Tritter. Not only did he have to see him, but he had to endure him butting his smug ass nose into his business once again. And how the fuck did he know Cate and her father? Enough to call her Catie? Who the fuck did he think he was, that son of a bitch? House was so incensed that he could have fucking killed Tritter with his bare hands if of course, one of them wasn't cuffed to the highly uncomfortable chair he had been sitting in. He was so irate by that point that he could barely contain himself. But he did a remarkable job, however, of not losing it for Cate's sake. He had embarrassed her enough for one evening. No doubt she had gotten an earful from her father on the way back home and had to explain his actions to the man. He felt terrible about that; he should never have put her into that position in the first place. He should have just sucked it up like a man and gone with her to dinner instead of traipsing around someone else's home like he was fucking Sherlock Holmes. God, he was such an asshole sometimes. Why did she put up with him?

He washed his hands and splashed some water on his face to wash away the self recrimination pity party he was holding for himself. He opened the medicine cabinet and took two Vicodin before slowly heading back to bed. His leg hurt and he needed sleep. He was becoming cranky if he wasn't there already. Climbing in, he settled against the mattress and thought about how he couldn't wait until they moved her bed to the apartment. He had to remember to talk to Foreman and Kutner about that this morning. He missed her bed and he wanted it here as soon as possible. He absolutely loved that she was there every night with him snuggled up by his side since they had decided to move in together, but he still wanted the bed. His leg needed the bed.

Instinctively, she felt him settle into position and she rolled over to place her head against his chest. Her skin was warm to the touch and she was no doubt running a low-grade temp. He pushed some of the covers off of her to cool her down a bit and he gently stroked her hair away from her face. He kissed the top of her head and held her tight to him. He decided for her sake that he's call her out of work and picked up the phone to dial the number of her assistant. Funny how he could remember the number but not the chick's name. After leaving her a message, he hung up and settled back against his pillow. Since he had gotten home a little over four hours ago, he was exhausted and deserved some much needed sleep. He'd make it in to the hospital whenever he'd make it in. Foreman could handle any monitoring of the patient if need be. His eyes got heavy quicker than he expected and was fast asleep within a few minutes.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It was almost lunchtime when House made it to Diagnostics. He strolled into his office and switched his pea coat fro his blazer. Searching his pocket for his Vicodin he popped two pills to jumpstart his day, well, his day at work anyway. Kutner poked his head in from the glass door separating his office from the conference room and then came fully into the room when House didn't bite his head off.

"Patient is stable and her vitals look good, " he said. "She's responding nicely to treatment and should be ready for discharge in another day."

House nodded and sat at his desk propping is feet up to relieve some of the pressure on his leg. "Good. Did they find a furry little play thing at the school?"

"You were right, " he said. "It was a gerbil. Someone transported it here and we tested it. Foreman killed it."

House made a face. "He didn't have to kill it."

Kutner shrugged with a chuckle. "It bit him and he dropped it."

Foreman entered the office at that moment and House gawked at him. "You killed a poor defenseless gerbil?"

The neurologist made a disgruntled face. "The little bastard bit me and took off. It made it all the way to the nurses' station and they all freaked out. It had to kill it before it infected anybody else."

"Now we can add murder to the list of offenses, " Det. Tritter announced with joy as he entered the office with Don Milton in tow. _Oh great_… House let out a groan of dismay. _What the hell was this all about?_

Foreman glanced incredulously at House and then back at Tritter. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"Get out of my office, " House demanded.

"I wouldn't be so quick to be so rude, Dr, House, " Tritter said moving further into the room.

"Oh pardon me, get the _fuck_ out of my office, " he said.

Tritter shook his head and clucked his tongue at him. "Glad to see nothing's changed."

Don Milton came forward. "We're here to talk."

House made a face. "What are you two a package deal now?"

Don looked around the room and nodded at the two younger doctors. "I think we need a little privacy."

"Kutner, out. Foreman, stay, " he ordered and shrugged noncommittally. "I need a witness incase you two try to shake me down." Foreman eyed him warily and came over to stand behind him by his desk. House was impressed that he actually stayed. Good to know that Homie had his back…

Don took the seat in front of his desk not waiting to be invited to sit down. Tritter stood using his imposing height to his advantage. Not moving from his relaxed position at his desk, House eyed the both of them through narrowed eyes. "What do you want?"

Tritter placed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his forty dollar loafers while Don studied him from his seat. House had the odd feeling of being cast in a 1970's cop show, like Good Cop and Bad Cop were going to wring a confession out of him no matter what he did or didn't do.

The older man spoke first, "I'm gonna say this plain. I don't like you. I don't like that you're with my daughter. I respect what you do as a doctor and I'm grateful that you saved my Catie's life but it ends there."

House nodded. "Fair enough."

"It would be pointless to tell my daughter to stop seeing you, " he said. "I want to believe that there is something redeeming about you that she sees in you, but I don't know if I can do that."

He laughed derisively. "Well, I'm sure big Mikey has filled you in on all of my lesser redeeming qualities."

Don nodded. "I must say it makes it very hard for me to see past those things and accept your relationship with my daughter."

"Well you can believe what you want to believe," House stated. "You can either take the word of your daughter or the word of a bitter detective with some ridiculous axe to grind over me. It's your choice."

Cate's father regarded him for a moment through his coal black eyes. "You tell me how I'm supposed to feel comfortable allowing my daughter to live with a functioning drug addict with a God complex who has no respect for the law and thinks he's better than everyone else?"

House lifted his leg off the desk and leaned forward in his chair. "I don't know, why don't you tell me how she's lived her whole life with a functioning alcoholic who thinks he has the right to pry into people's business because he used to wear a badge?"

Don sputtered. "I am not an alcoholic. "

"Oh no? You're eyes are glassy and bloodshot with a tinge of yellowing in the sclera because it's beginning to affect your liver. You have a slight drooping of your right eyelid and an almost imperceptible slurred speech. You skin pallor looks like a person whose been drinking everyday for the last thirty years and I'll bet money that you take a shot Vodka every morning as your constitutional so you don't actually shoot someone, because even as a retired cop, your still packing heat, " he relayed pointing the edge of the holster sticking out of the waistband of his pants.

Don stared as him with his mouth agape. House heard Tritter grunt in dissatisfaction but he kept his eyes trained on Cate's father. He had hit a nerve and he knew it.

"She told you all of that?" he said.

"Nope. She never said a word, " he stated.

"Then how did you…"

House shrugged, "It's what I do."

Don sighed and regarded him for a moment. He looked at Tritter and then back to House. "I may drink more than I should, but I've never let it affect my family or my job, " he defended himself.

"And I take what _some people_ deem excessive amounts of Vicodin because I live in excruciating pain every single day, but it doesn't affect my relationship with Cate or my job, " House countered.

Tritter made a noise and repositioned himself. House glared at him and prayed that the look on Foreman's face was a passive as it was when he first took his side. Truth be told, he had not been as much of a bastard as he usually was in the two months since he'd met Cate. She had mellowed him a bit. Foreman had to see that.

House stared at Don. "You know your daughter. You have to believe in her judgment, she doesn't make decisions lightly."

Don ran a hand over his jaw and nodded his head. His black eyes were still wary but there was concurrence there.

Tritter grunted. "Don, " he muttered pleadingly. "She deserves better than him."

House threw his hands up. "Yeah he's right. She does deserve better than me. She deserves better than all of us." Foreman scoffed from behind him and House glanced over his shoulder at him.

"I get why you're here, " the neurolgist said pointing at Cate's father, "But why the hell is he here?"

"Yeah, Don, " House drawled. "Why don't you explain to the class why Big Mikey is here? Because I don't get it either"

"I'm an old friend of the family," Tritter said before Don could get it out. "And I have a vested interest to see that Cate ends up with someone who will treat her the way she deserves. If that means screwing with you in the process, all the more fun."

Foreman spat out a bitter laugh and House stared coldly at Tritter. He knew it. The son of a bitch wanted her for himself. "You think she'd ever see anything in you that would make you worthy of her?" he snapped.

"There's nothing in _you_ that makes you worthy of her so I figure I've at least got snowball's chance in Hell, " he said smugly.

Foreman laughed out loud. "You're kidding me, right?" He stepped forward with his shoulders squared and leveled his eyes at Tritter. "That woman has more class in her left pinky than you have in your entire body. She'd see through your arrogant bullshit from a mile away. There's no way she'd trade _his_ sorry ass for your even sorrier one."

House grinned and cocked his head to the side, "Yeah, what he said." He had no idea Foreman would ever come to his defense on anything, let alone stand up to Tritter for him. _He thought he might cry…_

Don stood up and direction his gaze at Foreman. "You know my daughter?"

"Yeah, " he acknowledged.

"You obviously have an opinion, let's hear it, " Don encouraged.

Foreman glanced at House, who shrugged back at him. He was going to say what he was going to say… there was nothing House could do to change what happened in the past, so he figured, why not? Let Foreman say his peace. He had already defended him, how bad could it be?

"I've known your daughter only for about a month but I also treated her when she was in the South Pole. She's intelligent and stubborn and capable of taking care of herself." He paused for a moment and then pointed at House. _So far so good…_ "I've worked with him for five years. He's intelligent and stubborn and an unmitigated ass. Patients can't stand him, co-workers can't stand him, the human race in general can't stand him, but he's the best doctor I've ever worked with. Ninety percent of the time I hate him and ten percent of the time I tolerate him but, a hundred percent of the time I respect him. Don't ask me how or why, but he loves your daughter and in all the time I've known him I never thought he was capable of caring about anyone but himself until now. So yeah, do you have a right to be worried? Hell yes, I'll give you that. But sir, Cate's tough lady and can take care of herself. I don't think you need to worry about her."

House wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Foreman, I'm so touched…"

"Shut up, House, " he groused irritatedly at him.

Don nodded his head in begrudging acceptance. He looked back and forth between House, Foreman and Tritter. His black eyes landed back on House and he fixed him with his daunting stare. "If you do anything to hurt her…"

"Yeah, yeah, " House cut him off, "You'll shoot me and Meathead over here will be more than happy to hide the body."

Don cracked a smile. "Fair enough." He looked at Tritter who looked like he'd lost final game of the Little League World Series. "Mikey you want to tell him about the charges?"

Tritter rolled his eyes. "Your patient's husband dropped all charges this morning. You and your other doc are off scot free. His wife can come get her bail money back in a couple of days."

House nodded. He knew that would probably be the case. It was little rude to press charges after the doctors who broke into your house saved your wife's life because of it.

Don stuck his hand out to shake. House looked at it for a second and then stood up. He saw Foreman tense up and he slid him a sly grin. He took her father's beefy hand in his calling a truce. _God damn the things he would endure for that woman…_

"So we'll see each other on Thanksgiving, " Don said. It was statement of fact, not a question.

House nodded. "Thanksgiving." He looked at Tritter. "And you're not invited."

The large detective walked out of his office hopefully for the last time ever. Don paused and leaned in to speak in hushed tones, "We don't need to tell Catie about any of this right?"

"Probably not a wise idea, " House agreed. The older man nodded succinctly and left the office.

House sat back in his chair feeling like he'd just received a stay of execution. He was mentally exhausted.

Foreman shook his head. "You owe me. Huge."

House nodded. "Name it."

"I want to get Thirteen into the CNS medical trials for Huntington's, " he said.

House drew his eyebrows together and regarded him for a moment. Interesting… "What's you interest in it?"

Foreman shrugged. "It's a good opportunity for her."

"Yeah, " he said carefully. "But what's in it for you?"

"Nothing." He shook his head denying any perk from the move. But House knew better. He had feelings for her.

"You know, _Cameron_, she's going to die no matter what you do, " he said purposely bringing up the same situation they had all admonished his former fellow about. "Getting involved with dying people is a road to misery."

"If this trial works, it could give her another five years, " he said with hope in his voice.

"Yeah, and then she'll be dead and you'll be fifty-five years old with nothing, " he painted for him.

"Up until two months ago, you were going to be fifty years old with nothing but your own misery, " he shot back.

"Yes, but the woman I'm in love with doesn't have a terminal disease, odds are she'll out-live me, " he reminded him. "Don't mistake compassion for love."

Foreman sighed and his face softened. "I just want to give her a quality of life before she has nothing left. Wouldn't you want the same?"

"Has she agreed to enter the trial?"

"No, she's denying any responsibility for her illness, you know that."

House shrugged. "If she agrees then, you can have whatever time you need."

Foreman relaxed looking relieved. "Thank you."

"No, thank you."


	49. Chapter 49: My Turn

Sessions 49: My Turn

_A/N: For those with weak stomachs…sorry about all the puking… it's a necessary evil. It leads into an important bridge they must cross as a couple… Happy New Year to everyone and I love you all for your continued interest in my story. This puppy has a lot of miles to go so those who are worried it's gonna end soon…Fear not! Hugs and Kisses!_

Later that evening, House opened the door to his apartment and was shocked by the extreme change that had taken place while he was at work today. The dining table had been delivered, it was there next to the piano right by the front door with six chairs. It actually fit in the space with room to spare. He noticed that the piano had been turned slightly and quickly hobbled over to make sure nothing had happened to it in the process. It looked fine. No scratches or dings. He stood in front of the keys and ran his fingers deftly across the ivory in an ascending arpeggio to check to see if it held its tuning. Everything sounded in perfect harmony. He stood behind the keys and surveyed the rest of the room. The sofa had been turned perpendicular to the fireplace which was a bit of a bummer but it faced the plasma screen and its components on the small wall by the kitchen. The entertainment consol fit perfectly there like it was designed for that space. The area by the book shelves still held the s-shaped lounge chair and reading lamp but they were just pushed back into the bookcases a little further. Everything looked perfect. He was impressed.

He wondered how in the world Cate had managed to do all of this since when he left her that morning she was still very sick to her stomach. She better not have done any of this herself, because he'd have to throttle her for being a selfless idiot and not resting. The place was quiet and the lights were dim and he figured that she was lying down in the bedroom sleeping. Even if this bug she had was a twenty-four hour kind, she still had another twelve hours to go. He hung his cane on the molding of the juncture between the living room and hallway and quietly limped into the bedroom. He stopped short at the open door, floored.

"How in the hell…" he muttered in astonishment.

Her bed. The bed. Was here. In his room… in their room.

Cate sat up from her prone position in the middle of the bed and looked at him sleepily. Her hair was mussed and she was wearing one of his old Hopkins sweatshirts. She looked absolutely adorable.

"You're home, " she said drowsily.

"Yes, " he said coming full into the room. He stopped at the end and ran his hand over the dark mahogany footboard of the sleigh bed. "Cate, how in the world did you get this here?"

She smiled deeply at him and walked on her knees to the edge of the plump mattress. She held her hands out with a devilish giggle for him to step into her embrace. He did so and hugged her still reeling from the extreme surprise and repeated himself, "How did you do this?"

She leaned back in his arms and toyed with the collar of his shirt. "I paid the table delivery guys the five hundred dollars cash I didn't use for your bail to go pick up the bed and move everything around."

He let out a laugh. "Five hundred dollars?" He looked behind her at the bed in amazement and thought of everything in the living room. "They did all that for five hundred dollars?"

She tilted her head. "It was cash and I think they felt bad for me. I threw up twice while they were putting the table together." She smiled deviously running her finger down the front of his shirt. "Plus, I might have let them think that I was pregnant and my new husband was out of town on business."

He laughed and ran his hand under the hem of his sweatshirt onto the warm skin of her back. "You're shameless."

"Hey, it gets the job done, " she smiled. "And now we don't have to beg our friends to help."

He pressed his lips to her forehead and was pleased that her temperature felt normal. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, I was able to keep down water and some crackers around 4:00, " she said as if that was greatest triumph in the world.

Scooching her backward, he climbed into the billowy softness of the bed and lay down against the downy white comforter. He sighed audibly and reveled in the sensation of being cradled gently in the suppleness of the linens on his new favorite place in the whole world. "I love you."

She giggled and placed her hands on his chest as she kneeled over him. "I love you."

He raised his hand to cup the side of her cheek. She looked tired and still a little green around the edges with dark circles under her eyes. Man, if only she weren't sick… then they could really enjoy this bed. Cursing their appalling timing, he took out two Vicodin from the bottle in his jeans pocket and swallowed them down. She lay down next to him and looped her cotton clad leg over the top of his thigh. They lay there in silence for a while enjoying the comfort of their bed.

"Where did the other bed go?" he wondered.

"In the tiny spare room that's in reality just a closet, " she said.

"We really might have to get a storage place, " he said off the cuff.

"No, they put it together, " she told him.

"It fits in there?"

"Yeah, it's tight but it works, " she said as she played with the buttons on his shirt.

He was about to tell her the good news about the charges being dropped when he swallowed hard. He sat bolt upright unceremoniously dumping her flat against the pillows before grabbing the waste basket next to the bed and depositing his two barely digested Vicodin and lunch into it. Whoa… it was apparently his turn to be worshiping the porcelain God. Fabulous.

He hurled two more times into the trash can before he could slowly make his way into the bathroom. Oh yeah… this was just perfect. He felt like dying. He bowed to the deity and made another sacrifice to the Powers that Be and prayed that this was not going to go into a full blown ordeal. He calculated in his head, if he went to sleep now, he could probably last about six hours without the Vicodin but that was pushing it since the last time he took some was about two hours ago.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lean against the door frame. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not you fault, " he said reaching for the towel draped over the half wall between the commode and bathtub. Wiping his mouth, he sat back on his butt and straightened out his bad leg along the tile floor. "It was inevitable."

She came into the bathroom and wet a wash cloth with cool water like he had done for her this morning. She pressed it to the back of his neck for a moment. He weakly rested his forehead against her thigh letting her massage the tightness in his neck. "The consolation is that I think it only lasts twenty four hours and there's no diarrhea."

"Joy, " he muttered feeling like he'd just been hit by a truck. He held out his hands to her indicating that she help him up. He needed to get off the cold tile before his leg stiffened up. She shifted her weight and tugged on his arms giving him the momentum he needed to hoist himself off the floor. His legs, both good and bad, were weak and his head was spinning. He almost took her down hard into the bathtub but she was somehow able to right them enough to get them started back into the bedroom. They made it to his side of the bed easily enough and she helped him to sit on the edge.

She grinned at him and unbuckled his belt. "Why is that every time I try to get into your pants, you're sicker than a dog?"

"Because I'm a stupid ass." He let out a weak laugh and let her take his jeans off heedless of her seeing his scar. It just didn't matter anymore. He didn't understand why he'd been so hung up on it before.

She went to his drawer and took out a pair of his jammie pants and a clean t-shirt.

"I'm gonna need a large bucket because I'm not fast enough to make it to the toilet, " he told her as she pulled his shirt over his head.

"I'll find another garbage can and put a bag in it because if I touch the other one, I'm going to hurl again and I've finally stopped, " she said holding his shirt out for him.

"Can you find me a sweatshirt, " he said with a pout pulling the cool feeling shirt over his head. God he hated feeling like an invalid. She came back with a hooded grey one from the closet and helped him to put it on. He stood up gingerly to put on his comfy pants while she turned down the covers for him.

"I'll be right back, " she said leaving him alone while she went in search of a spew bucket. He climbed into bed under the covers and pulled them all the way up to his chin. A flash from when he was young hit him like a blast from the past. When his dad was in country or on training exercises, his mom used to give him flat ginger ale and saltines when he had a stomach ache and it was the only time he was allowed to lie on the couch and watch TV. Any other time his father, if he'd been home, would have pushed his ass out the door and told him to go find something to do. He wasn't allowed to be ill according to his father. He had to suck it up and be a man. He recalled this one time when he was seven, he wound up puking on his dad's dress uniform before a dinner at the base Admiral's house. House had told his mother he didn't feel well but his father insisted it was because he didn't want to stay with the babysitter which was stupid. He liked the babysitter. She was nice. She used to sneak him chocolate milk while he was in bed before his parents came home. He couldn't remember her name but he remembered that she had pretty blonde hair and smelled like strawberries.

"Whach'ya smiling about, " she asked carrying a waste basket with a plastic liner over to the night stand.

"Nothing, " he said. "Come to bed."

She climbed in on her side and lay facing him. He rolled over slightly not wanting to jostle himself too much. "If I can't keep my Vicodin down, this could get pretty ugly."

She touched her hand to his forehead. "I know. We'll take it little by little, " she reassured him.

He wondered how she felt about his addiction because she never spoke of it. Her training as a psychiatrist made her understand the dark ins and outs of what it meant to be addicted to a drug like Vicodin but she never once implied that he needed to stop. He knew she understood his amount of pain but even that, he might admit, could be managed with a little bit less. He supposed it was because of her father's alcoholism and he speculated about just how much she'd been exposed to in her life. Don Milton didn't seem like the kind of guy to be abusive to his family. If anything, he was more over-protective based on today's little conversation. No he was probably a quiet drinker who hid it from every one. Unlike him who flaunted his drug abuse in everyone's face daring them to comment on it. It's what had gotten him embroiled with Tritter in the first place.

Tritter. It made him sick to think that asshole actually believed he could have a chance to win her. Foreman was so right in his description of her. She had more class in her little finger than that smug mother fucker had in his entire body. Just the thought of his hands on her made him want to kill him. It sickened him that he was jealous over it. How could he even irrationally think that she might choose Tritter over him? He knew her better than that. He believed in her. She loved him. Yet the whole idea made him…sick. He rolled over and puked again in the bucket cursing as his body wretched.

He couldn't talk to her about it. He couldn't tell her that her father had come to ask him to leave her. He couldn't warn her about Tritter. She would feel so betrayed by her father for his antics today. He couldn't do that to her. He knew what the felt like. So he was helpless and the only thing he could do was hope that Don would some how come to his side and keep Tritter away from them.

He lay back against the pillows and he could feel himself start to sweat and his hands start to shake. He needed to try to sleep. He felt her place a cold rag on his forehead and he felt like an ass for making her take care of him when she was sick as a dog as well. "I'm sorry, " he offered lamely. He chuckled bitterly. "I've said that more to you in the last two months than I think I've said it to anyone in the last ten years."

"Don't worry Hell isn't freezing over just yet, " she joked. "Let's get some sleep."

He nodded slowly and let his eyelids flutter shut. He had to be the luckiest asshole in the world to wind up with her. It almost made him believe there was a higher power… almost.


	50. Chapter 50: Meltdown

Sessions 50: Meltdown

To say Cate was concerned would have been a gross understatement. He was a mess. It was going from beyond bad into ugly faster than she could have predicted. He had barely slept more than two hours at a time throughout the night intermittently throwing up or waking from the increasing severity of pain in his leg. He had started with the sweats sometime early this morning and the shivering came around what should have been breakfast time. Every time he tried to take Vicodin to ease his discomfort it came right up along with whatever his liver and gallbladder were uselessly producing to restock the reserves.

She herself felt much better this morning. She had been able to shower and change clothes and even keep some toast and peppermint tea down without any trouble. Thank God for small favors because there was no way she would have been able to handle him if she was in any way in the same state she was in yesterday.

It was now late morning. Figuring that she could use another day to fully recover herself, she had called both of them out of work before her shower knowing that he would not be able to make it alone today. She went into the kitchen to make him some toast and tea on the off chance that if he had a little something in his stomach it might be able to handle at least one pill of Vicodin without rejecting it.

While waiting for the water to boil, she looked around the apartment pleased that she was able to convince the moving guys to do all of that heavy lifting yesterday. She was relieved that it was all finally taken care of and that she could settle into her new life without any kind of loose ends hanging out there. All of her clothing, bedding, towels, knickknacks, books and etc… were here. The last piece was the bed and now that was here too. She felt sad for House though, thinking about he couldn't even enjoy the bed after waiting so long for it to come because she had gone and gotten them both sick. Though none of the extreme symptoms he was feeling were at all her fault, she felt terrible about what he was going through.

The therapist in her was saying maybe this was a good thing; he could start the withdrawal process and wean himself off of the pills. The doctor in her was saying that there were other types of pain management methods and that he could survive without the Vicodin. However, the lover in her was saying do what ever it took to keep him out of the misery he was feeling. She was torn. She wanted to help him to not be in agony but she knew there was nothing she could really do for him. They were just going to have to ride this through, good, bad or indifferent.

She walked back into the kitchen and poured the boiling water over the tea bag. Peppermint tea was good on the digestion and the toast would provide a little buffer in the stomach acid. This biggest feat would be to get him to actually eat it.

She carried the mug and plate into the bedroom and placed them on the nightstand. The place smelled vile of vomit and sweat. She wished she could open some windows for some fresh air but it was freezing out and he was already shivering. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers back from over his head. He groaned involuntarily at her. His face was a stony mask of anguish. His eyes were red and watery, his skin was grey and clammy. He had sweat through his sweatshirt and soaked the sheets and she could smell the poison leeching out of his skin.

She reached out to brush his forehead and he recoiled away from her touch. She pulled her hand back and placed it on her lap. Tenderness was not going to work. Not when he was in this state. He was in full blown detox.

"I made you some tea and toast, " she told him. When he made a face, she said, "You're going to try and eat some."

He glared at her through his half-open eyelids and shook his head slowly. He groaned something unintelligible and burrowed further into the pillow.

"If you eat something you might be able to keep down some Vicodin, " she told him figuring that blackmail would work, knowing that's what he needed now more than any kind of sustenance.

"I need metaclopamine, not toast, " he growled.

"I don't have metaclopamine, I have toast, " she said. He wanted something to stop the vomiting. It had turned into a vicious cycle. The vomiting had started the withdrawal and now the detox was causing the vomiting . He was detoxing because she had given him a stomach virus and couldn't keep his Vicodin down long enough to let it do its job, not because he was actually trying to get off the hydracodon.

"I'm only going to puke it up, " he objected.

"Sit up, " she ordered.

He pouted angrily. "What happened to my sweet, loving Cate?"

"I'm still here. I'm just not going to let you lay here in your own filth and wallow in self-pity, now sit up, " she repeated forcefully.

He breathed heavily and glared at her through his droopy red eyes. She thought for a moment he might protest aggressively but he acquiesced and dragged himself to sitting. His entire body was revolting against him as he leaned his back against the pillows. She handed him the cup of tea which he took in his shaking hands albeit reluctantly and waited for him to take a sip.

"I hate tea, " he complained.

"Yeah, yeah, and I hate global warming, just drink the damn tea, " she told him smiling to herself because she had adopted his ever so pleasant bedside manner.

He narrowed his eyes at her, and took a sip of the hot liquid. She watched him drink as she sat on the edge of the bed like she had all the time in the world.

"Are you gonna sit here and make sure I drink it all Mommy?"

"Maybe, " she said sarcastically and leaned back on her elbow.

"I am capable of handling this, I have been through this before, " he griped.

"I know, " she said with a shrug. "If you've been through this before how come it's happening again?"

"Don't psychoanalyze me, " he said coldly.

"I'm not judging, I'm just curious, " she said. "We've never talked about your dependency."

"Because I don't need to talk about it," he deflected.

"Because you don't want to talk about it," she amended.

"No, I don't want to talk about it because I don't need to talk about it."

"When you were in rehab, did they put you on buprenorphine, " she asked.

"Yeah, and it sucks, " he said belligerently.

"What sucks about it?"

"It does nothing for the pain, " he said as if she were dense.

"But once you wean off the Vicodin the pain should reduce, the buprenorphine, is supposed to help both the pain and the emotional addiction."

"It doesn't cut my leg off and replace it with fuzzy puppies and rainbows. I need the Vicodin for the pain, " he said through grit teeth rubbing his hand angrily down the length of his thigh.

"There's nothing else that works for the pain?" she asked dubiously. "Physical therapy, massage, tramadol or gabapentin?"

"Morphine works on the pain, would you prefer if I was on that, or maybe heroin, " he said sarcastically. When she didn't say anything, he said, "Yeah I thought so."

She sat up and crossed her arms. He was as fuzzy and sweet as a peach today. "Eat your toast." She stood up to leave. "The bucket's empty if you need it."

Cate left the room to go into the living room. She was tired and didn't really want to pursue the conversation further. He was not rational because he was detoxing and in pain. Hell, he was barely rational about his Vicodin when he was so called feeling normal. He could barely think straight. There was no point in discussing it with him because he was only going to fight her on it. She had had these conversations many times with her patients throughout the years. She knew how they went. No matter how much sense she would make, the addict would justify, rationalize and quantify their own addiction. They needed their drug to live and if the alternative was life without the drug they would sooner take death. That was the very foundation of addiction.

Cate thought about her father and his long standing affair with alcohol. She hadn't discovered his alcoholism until she was in her first year of pre-med. Her mom had done a fabulous job of covering it up through her entire childhood. Dad never drank heavily in front of her. If he did, it was at parties and holidays when everyone else was drinking. She never knew about the bottle of vodka stashed in his desk in the den or in his desk in the squad room or in the kitchen behind the cookbooks. Her mother had explained to her that over the years the severity of his problem had taken different incarnations. Sometimes it was a shot of vodka during the day because vodka never left his breath with the smell of alcohol on it. Sometimes he splashed whisky into his nightly coffee to take the edge of the day and help him sleep at night. She always knew that he'd stop for two or three beers every Tuesday night after his shift and sit around with a never-ending glass of scotch during his Thursday night poker games. All the guys did that. It was the secret drinking that she had no idea about. That drinking was invisible to her until the day she had seen it with her own eyes.

She had come home for spring break to find him at home during the day, which was unusual for him because he never missed a day of work, not even for a cold. She found him on the couch with his shirt and necktie open and his undershirt stained with blood. He had a half empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a full glass in the other. His eyes stared at nothing for a long time not even acknowledging her presence in the room until she touched his shoulder. He was despondent and nearly catatonic. He had shot and killed a fourteen year old boy who had cornered them in a stairwell with a gun he had stolen from the liquor store he had just robbed. They boy had shot and killed the owner and his wife as an initiation into a gang. In the pursuit, he boy had shot at them hitting her father's partner in the shoulder and drawing their fire. Both men had shot the kid over three times from each of their weapons. It was the first and only time he had told her about his job. It was the first and only time he had questioned his ability to reason and do his job. He questioned whether or not his judgment was impaired, whether his hands had been stable enough to not mortally wound the boy. By department policy, he had sought counseling with the police psychiatrist. That had been the last time he talked about it. It was the last time he ever acknowledged that he had a problem.

The pain her father had been alleviating was not physical but the psychological pain of seeing the very worst that humanity had to offer. He had borne witness to atrocities that no one person should ever see. As many police officers had done before him and will continue to do, he anesthetized himself with alcohol to make it possible for him to continue to do his job everyday. His pain was psychological but nonetheless, as real. It was what helped him to function and to live a normal life as a man with a family he loved. The fact that she and her mother understood that made them both enablers by definition. But, her consolation, as both a doctor and a daughter, was that if he couldn't function she would have done whatever she could to help him fight the addiction.

In essence, she felt the same way with House. She knew he was chemically dependant on the medication. He couldn't live without it and nor did she believe he should have to if it made his life livable. He was as highly functioning an addict as she had ever seen. He held down an exceedingly stressful and demanding job. He had marginally passable relationships with others. His judgment may have been suspect but for the majority was always in the best interest of his patients in order to save their lives. Was he and addict, yes. Did it hinder his ability to do his job, no. Did the fact that she understood that make her an enabler, yeah maybe so. But did it matter to her? The answer was 'no'. What mattered to her was that she loved him as he was. Did that mean, however, that she was going to let him treat her like shit? Hell no. If he needed her he could call.

Cate sat down on the sofa and opened up a book she had started yesterday. She covered herself with the throw on the back of the sofa and settled in to read. She had lain down at some point and must have fallen asleep because she was startled when she heard him trod heavily into the living room. When she opened her eyes, she found her book on her chest and the cat curled up by her feet. House was pacing back and forth up and down the hallway. She could hear his labored breathing and the angry force with which he stepped. She was still a little drowsy when she heard a door slam and him fall to the floor with a howl. Jumping from the couch she ran to the hallway to find him at the bathroom door on the floor clutching his hand to his chest. His head was thrown back in torment. She saw his pronounced Adam's apple move in his throat as he choked back another cry. His breath was shallow and his face was gaunt with distress. She knelt down beside him running her hands over him to see if he had injured anything on his way to the floor.

"What happened?" she asked deeply concerned by the tortured sight of him.

"Emergent pain… relieves current…pain, " he said with great difficulty.

"What did you do?" she said looking at his hand clutched protectively in the other. It was beginning to swell and turn a bluish purple underneath the broken skin over his knuckles. "Did you just slam your hand in the door?"

He lolled his sweaty head back and forth attempting to deny it but gave up. She grabbed his injured hand to examine the extent of damage. The fourth and fifth proximal phalanges and metacarpals on his left hand were probably broken. He winced sharply as she manipulated the crushed fingers. She sighed heavily and looked away to gather herself. This situation had gone way out of control.

"When was the last time you threw up?" she asked him.

He swallowed roughly. "Five minutes ago."

"Did you eat the toast?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes and kept them shut. "It gave me something to throw up." He let out a whimper. "I need Vicodin."

"I know, honey, I know, " she soothed him as she touched her hand to his face comforting him. "I think what you need an injection. Do you want me to go and get something? I'll write a script…"

He grabbed at her desperately like she was going to leave him. "No."

"Do you want me to call Wilson?"

"No!" he fought and then drew back. "No, don't call… don't call him… I have morphine."

"What? Where?" she was shocked. _Why didn't he tell her this six hours ago?_

"On the bookshelf…"

She got up and immediately went to the living room. "Which one?"

"Not the kitchen wall… it's a lockbox…all the way…at the top."

She looked at the nine foot ceiling. The shelf was maybe about a foot under it. How the hell was she going to get up there? Oh yeah, she had seen a step ladder in the kitchen. She quickly found it and placed it in front of the unit climbing up. She was still too short to see on top of the shelf. Damn it… She felt around blindly accidentally knocking books over onto the floor with a sickening thud that would have made her librarian mother cringe. Shit, where was this thing? She felt around some more until her fingers collided with a cool metal box. Reaching up on her tippy toes she grasped the box with both hands and brought it down. She clamored off the ladder and rushed back to him in the hallway crouching down beside him.

"What is the combination, " she asked.

"Four – eleven – eight."

She turned the dials to unlock the combination, "What didn't you tell me about this before?"

He let his head droop down. "It's only for emergencies."

"I think this qualifies, " she said trying not to sound like she was reprimanding him.

"I didn't think it would get this bad, " he grumbled.

"You're sick Greg, this is more than just trying to tough it out, " she admonished filling the syringe. "Your body is fighting an infection and going through withdrawal because of it."

"20 mg." he instructed and she glared at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Let's try 10 mg intravenously first, " she said.

He rolled his eyes and pulled off his smelly sweatshirt accidently bumping his broken hand against the door jamb. "Fuck," he hissed holding his hand protectively.

She indicated for him to hold out his left arm for her to tie the tourniquet. She tied the tubing and swiftly inserted the needle into the bulging vein in the crook of his elbow administering the serum like she had done a thousand times before. This time, however, it had crossed a personal boundary and that felt bizarre even though the benefits seriously out weighed the cons. Removing the needle she placed a piece of gauze on the injection site and bent his arm up careful not to accidentally hit his fingers again in the process.

Within seconds, she watched the anguish drain from his face as the analgesic coursed through his veins deadening the pain riddling his body. He let out a huge breath on a sigh and threw his head back in something akin to ecstasy. He brought his head forward and she caught his face in her hands checking his pupils. They were dilated.

"How are you feeling now, " she asked looking into his eyes. He nodded his answer unable to speak. His eyes implored her forgive him, the blue of his irises disappearing as the drug took effect. He stared at her completely and totally exposed. His eyes brimmed over and then he collapsed against her chest. She embraced him tightly as he broke down out of sheer exhaustion. She hugged his head to her breast riding out the violent explosion of emotions as he came unglued. The depth of his torment brought tears to her eyes and she silently cried for him as he released his pain and misery into her. They sat on the floor for what felt like ages as she absorbed his wounded soul nourishing it and nurturing it like a defeated warrior in an endless battle for salvation. She poured forth her love and acceptance and support never letting go or showing fear for what she had seen or for what was to come. She was his rock, his haven in the storm now and forever. That was her silent promise to him.

Finally, he tore himself away from her hiding his face. Swiping the tears from his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt, he fixed his stare to the floor angry and ashamed of such a display of emotion. "Why are you still with me?"

"What?" she said her voice cracking under her own sensitivity of the moment.

"Why are you _here_ with _me_?" he beseeched.

"Because, I want to be, " she told him vehemently.

"I never wanted you to see me like that, to put you through that… the things I do… the things you're forced to do because of me…" his voice trailed off on another faint wave of emotion that he quickly pushed down.

She knelt beside him and turned his face to hers. Her tears were coming fast now but she made no move to wipe them away. "I love you with all of my heart."

"Cate, I'm a worthless bastard, " he said. "You deserve so much better than me."

"No, Greg. You're wrong, " she insisted.

"You should be with someone who doesn't make you bail them out of jail or dope them like a heroin addict, someone who doesn't take their pain out on you when you're only trying to help them. You shouldn't be with me."

"Don't say those things. You're exhausted and you're feeling vulnerable, " she said kneeling in front of him.

"No, I'm speaking the truth, " he said angrily. "I'm a broken man. I will always be broken and I'm no good for you."

She shook her head. Didn't he understand that she did those things willingly because she loved him? Couldn't he see that she loved him despite all of those things?

She took his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. "You look at me, Gregory House, and you listen to me. Hear me when I say, I love you more than anyone I've ever loved in my whole life. I don't care about all of that other stuff. I did all of those things for you because you're a part of me now. Always and forever. Don't you ever doubt that, " she persisted and then cracked a smile through her tears. "I brought my damn bed over here for you…" she said. "I gave you my cat, what else do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not going anywhere?"

He smiled weakly and pulled her into his chest holding on to her for dear life. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"I don't know. My mom always taught me that the universe creates balance in weird ways, " she said against his neck. "Maybe I tip the scales for you."

"You're gonna have to gain a hell of a lot of weight to tip my scales back in the other direction," he said grabbing her ass, his old self coming back.

"Don't count on it, " she said with a laugh. She pulled back from him and sat on her haunches. He looked like a sewer rat brought in by an alley cat, and he smelled about as sweet. "Honey, I love you but you stink."

He let out a laugh. "You want to hold me up in the shower?" he said with a devilish twinkle in his eye.

"The morphine may be making you feel good, but not that good, " she said. "We can renegotiate after you can keep some solid food down for a couple of hours." She held out her hand to him. "Come on, let's get some ice and a splint on that hand and then you can take a much needed bath."

He reached out with his right hand and she grabbed on tight with both of her hands to pull him up. Once he was up he swept her into an tender affectionate embrace. He kissed her neck and nuzzled her earlobe with his nose. "I would kiss you but I know I smell like sewage. So… I love you. I love you. I love you, " he repeated over and over again each time kissing an alternating side of her neck. He was definitely back and feeling good.

What a difference a little opium makes…

_A/N: A little bit of obsessive compulsive tendencies about details… the code for the lockbox is 4-11-08 which is the episode number for Frozen (4-11) and the year it was first aired (2008)… geek extraordinaire, I know! _

_Wheww. A little emotionally rollercoastery, no? Just creating more of a deeper emotional bond between our couple…and he hasn't even stuck his penis in her yet, MY GOD! What am I doing to him?_

_So, let's review: She's moved into his place, he's met her father and was basically told he wasn't good enough for her, and he apparently took it to heart. But, now he knows she won't ever leave him even if he's in jail and essentially a crackhead… She's seen him at his worst, as a broken shell of who he normally is and she still loves him. Go figure! Although he's never totally unleashed his true inner demon at her like he's done to the others. Hmmm… What's around the corner for our two lovers? FINALLY some sex, Mama House's affair and why, more sex, Cuddy's baby issues and Wilson, extra sex, the evolution of 14… our 3 cheerleaders return… possibly Tritter (Boo – hiss!) Hey, every Superman has a Lex Luthor… and all of the other fantastic stuff that pops into my head as these characters' lives unfold before my laptop blurred eyes._

_BTW: The rating will change to 'M' … so, for those who aren't allowed to read the smut, just read it anyway… you can learn some good stuff! Besides, does Mom really check to see what you're reading on the internet? Oh and, yeah, it won't be pornographically smutty because I just don't do that bulging cock stuff, eww – I just felt a little dirty writing that here… I promise it will be tasteful and appropriate with a little spice. _

_See you in Act III! Toodles…. PS loving all of the really nice reviews. They make my day!_


	51. ACT III Chapter 51

ACT III: Sessions 51

"What the hell happened to your hand?" Wilson exclaimed coming up along side House in the cafeteria line. House ignored him in preference of deciding whether or not to have chocolate cake or the oreo cream cake for breakfast. He couldn't make a decision so he picked up the plate with the thick piece of chocolate cake _and_ the gooey oreo one and placed them both unceremoniously on Wilson's tray. He figured that his best-friend was here now so why should he pay for them himself. Besides, it was kind of like the fee for him having to explain what had occurred over the weekend to earn him a two splinted fingers and a bandaged up hand. There was no way Wilson was going to let it drop without some sort of explanation.

"Bar fight, you should see the other guy, " he sniped moving along in the line.

"It's your left and I would think that you'd have a busted lip or at least a black eye, " Wilson quipped knowingly.

House grabbed three little milk containers and dumped them onto the tray as well suddenly glad that Wilson was there because he would have had to line his pockets with the milk containers in order to carry them back to his office. Plus, he would have only been able to take one piece of cake for that matter.

"What, you think I would have said something to start the fight?" House asked innocently.

"I've _been_ there when you've said something to start the fight, " Wilson said dryly.

House limped past the cashier who smiled at him. He harrumphed at her and continued on. She must be new… because none of them actually smiled at him. They knew better. Wilson paid and met him at the booth he'd chosen on the far side of the caf away from everyone. He removed the two additional milk containers he'd placed in his jacket pockets before Wilson had shown up and popped two of his Vicodin before he coated his stomach with the chocolate goodness that was going to be his breakfast. It was a celebration back to solid food and he was doing it up in style. Wilson rolled his eyes at him when he noticed that he had five milks now instead of just the three.

"What they're like 25 cents each, who gives a crap, " he griped as Wilson sat down with a disapproving sigh.

"House, they were 25 cents back in the early nineties, I think they're something like 40 cents now."

"Dude, can you stop reminding me of how old I am, it's really annoying, " he groused grabbing his plates off the tray. He situated them both in front of him with equal importance. "Shit, I forgot a fork."

Wilson held up the piece of cheap stainless steel in front of him. House went to grab for it but he pulled it away. "Ah, ah, not until you tell me what really happened to your hand."

House growled a sigh at him and thought about just picking the piece of cake up with his good hand and eating it pizza style but that would just be way too messy, especially with the oreo slice. Damn it. "Cate was an animal this weekend… we were trying a new position and…"

Wilson narrowed his eyes speculatively at him, "You finally had sex?"

House grabbed for the fork and Wilson pulled it back further. "I could just go up and get another one, you know."

"But that would require you actually having to _get up_ and _go_ _get_ one, " he said, prodding him with an arched eyebrow to answer at least one of the dangling questions.

House made a resigned smirk. "No sex, yet… Fork."

He held it out for him and then pulled it back again reconsidering. "Why not?"

House snarled in frustration. This was getting really annoying. And that was his job, not Wilson's. He reached out to someone passing by and grabbed the fork off of their tray earning a disgusted gasp from the previous owner.

Wilson smiled embarrassedly at the indignant person and apologized. "Sorry, " he said handing them the fork he'd been holding ransom.

"What, did _they_ tell you why they're not having sex too, " House snarked as he shoved a huge chunk of cake into his mouth.

"I just don't get it House, the woman is a goddess, " Wilson cried dumfounded.

"I've been a little busy, " he half-explained.

"Too busy to take an hour a night to fuck the gorgeous woman sleeping next you, " he exclaimed.

"Hey, " he warned harshly, surprising himself at his tone. He talked about women like that all the time, but it made him insane when Wilson talked that way about Cate. "What about you, did you fuck Cuddy yet?"

Wilson glared at him, getting his point. "No."

He raised his eyebrows taunting him a bit. "OH, how come?"

"We've only been on two dates, " Wilson protested.

House scoffed. "You're gonna tell me you didn't spend the weekend with her?"

Wilson lowered his eyes sheepishly. "I spent… the whole…. weekend with her."

"And how come no playing hide the little Jimmy, " he questioned.

"You're a pig, " he said.

He shrugged shoving another piece of cake into his mouth. "So you really like her?"

Wilson got that little smile he got when he was falling for someone, which was like about every five minutes, but nevertheless… "Yeah, I really like her."

House nodded kind of understanding. "Aside from her being the devil and all, I'm curious about why? What is she like when she's not, you know, around here?"

Wilson's smile grew wistful. "She's really smart and funny. She has an incredible sense of humor, which she has to have because of well, you know… you." House nodded in concession. "She likes a lot of the same things I like…"

"Tranny-hookers and dildos up your ass, " House supplied.

"Yeah those too, " Wilson replied without a beat. "No, we like the same stupid kinds of movies, we've read the same five books over the last couple of months. She likes the same music I do…"

"She likes Air Supply?"

"She likes going to the opera."

"Thank God, because if you asked me to go with you one more time, I was going to have to buy you a pair of assless chaps and subscription to Gay-boy Opera Lovers magazine."

"Thank god is right, I was beginning to think the same thing myself, " Wilson said with a peculiar nod as he sipped his coffee.

"So you spent the whole weekend with her and you haven't sealed the deal, what gives, that's not your usual MO, " House pointed out.

Wilson shook his head. "It's different because I know her. We work together. We've been friends for years. If we screw this up, we screw up our friendship for good."

"So why can't you guys be friends with benefits?" House asked casually.

"Because, " Wilson said defensively, "Sex complicates things. Either we could just have sex or we could figure out whether or not there's the possibility for a real relationship."

House stared at him pointedly. "Makes complete sense, doesn't it?"

Wilson glared back at him. "Point taken. I think however, that in your case you're afraid to have her see your leg. That this will be the first time you've had sex with someone you truly care about since your infarction."

"That's stupid, I had sex with Stacey many times after, " he objected.

"Yeah, but that was different because she went through the whole thing with you. She knew what to expect and so did you. This, this is different, " Wilson pointed out. "Cate is new, she's completely separate from your past. She's come to fall in love with you as the bastard that you are, scars and everything and that in and of itself is suspect to you. It's something to not be trusted."

"Are you saying I don't trust Cate?" he asked incredulously.

"A little bit," he answered. "But I think you can't trust yourself more."

"I can't trust myself to not do what exactly?"

"To not blow it up, and then to not completely crash and burn like you did after Stacey, " he continued. "You drove away the only woman that you ever loved, _twice_! The first time you blamed her because you couldn't forgive her. The second time, you felt guilty because she chose you over her husband who absolutely adored her and by then you'd worked yourself into such a miserable state that you felt like you didn't deserve to be happy. And you still feel that way. But, now… now, Cate makes you incredibly happy and I'll venture to guess that you love her more than you ever loved Stacey, because she totally accepts you for who you are even in your twisted sense of misery. And you're afraid that you're going to screw that up. Because you believe that you can't be everything that she needs as a lover and a partner. And that my friend, is why you won't have sex with her."

House stared at him over his forkful of oreo cake. He hated Wilson when he was right. Truth be told, if the last few days were any testament, Wilson's words were right on target. After everything he'd put her through over the last week between the jail debacle to taking her to the dregs of his dependency on Vicodin, he had to truly believe that she legitimately loved him despite all of his glaring faults. She had said so herself when he told her that she deserved better than him. And he believed her. He believed her when she told him she'd wait for him to be ready and he believed her now when she told him that she was there always and forever.

Forever was a long time. A few months ago, he would have laughed at the idea of someone promising him they'd be with him until the end of time. A few months ago that very thought would have sent him hop stepping it as fast as he could for the hills. Now, it sounded like the best idea in the world. He barely recognized himself anymore. No, that wasn't true. He was the same guy, his personality was the same, he still made the same dirty jokes, still liked the same kinds of filthy humor, he loved to irritate people and he still believed the world revolved around the principles that everyone lies and people don't change. Now he believed that what people can do is learn how to trust someone and learn how to see the things in front of them that make them happy. That was the difference in him. He was the same, only now he was happy, too. Still an asshole, just a happy asshole. Which was inherently so much more fun then being a miserable asshole because no one saw it coming.

"You're right, " he said flatly.

Wilson choked on his coffee. "W-what?"

"I said you're right."

"About what?"

"All of it."

"Everything?" Wilson stared at him incredulously. "Everything everything?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Everything everything."

"Whoa…" he said taking a breath. "I was guessing."

House laughed. "Bullshit, you sat up all night trying to come up with that."

"Yeah, House, that's right, I sit up all night deliberating the psychosis that is your brain."

"Back to you and Cuddles… the reason you're all into the sex is complicated train all of a sudden has nothing to do with the friendship thing."

"What? Why?"

"Because you would have been all over that two years ago when you guys were going on those 'friend' dates, she just never gave you the green light, " House told him. "But now, you're afraid to get close to someone again because of Amber. It's the same thing I said to you before you smashed the stained glass window. You're afraid that if you get close to her you'll lose her and you won't be prepared for it. Either that or you'll over prepare and kill it before it even gets off the ground."

Wilson stared back at him with his mouth open. "That's essentially the same thing I just said to you."

"How is that the same, " he accused.

"I don't want to have sex because I'm afraid to get too close and lose her and you're afraid to have sex because you'll get too close and lose her. Sound like the same thing to me, " he said.

He pursed his lips together considering this for a moment. "Ok maybe… but it's still the truth."

Wilson teetered his head back and forth weighing the idea in his mind. "Maybe so."

House stared at his cake crumbs for a bit. "We're pathetic."

Wilson looked confused. "Why?"

"We're sitting here talking about not having sex with our girlfriends, like that's a good thing. When the fuck did we grow up and become responsible, man?"

Wilson rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I've always been responsible."

"Oh please, you're a whore, you're not responsible. You'd screw anything with two legs and hole who wasn't your wife. How does that make you responsible?"

"Right and you'd screw anything with two legs and a hole who takes American Express, " he countered.

"Well, now you're just getting personal, " House took exception.

"You started it, " Wilson complained.

House cell phone vibrated agaist his hip. He picked it up and the caller ID said 'clinic'. He rolled his eyes and placed it back on his hip.

"Who was that?" Wilson asked.

"Clinic, " House answered off handedly. "Its bad enough I'm there all the time, I don't have to deal with them calling me, too."

"Have you been down there yet, today?"

House grinned. "Why? You want me to pass a note to Cuddles for you before study hall?"

Wilson smirked and then laughed. "Maybe…"

All of a sudden, House remembered a very intense conversation he had with Cate last night. He grimaced slightly and then did as he promised her. "Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?" he muttered.

Wilson shrugged. "Hadn't planned on it, why?"

House pushed the rest of the icing skid marks around in his plates mopping them up with the left over crumbs. "See, now that we have this table…"

Wilson smiled and let out a little chuckle. "House, are you inviting me over for a real Thanksgiving dinner?"

He eyed Wilson. "I might sound like that but I assure you it's under threat to my life."

"I'd love to, " Wilson accepted graciously.

"And bring Cuddy too, " he muttered running his hand over his mouth and looking away.

Wilson chuckled. "I think you should ask her yourself."

House's phone rang again. He looked at it and sent it to voice mail. "Clinic again. Gotta go!"

He slipped out of the booth and took off in the direction of the clinic. There was no way in Hell he was going to go personally invite Cuddy over for Thanksgiving. Either Cate or Wilson would have to do that. He had only agreed to tell Wilson and Thirteen and maybe Foreman if he wasn't going to see his parents. That was like three people too many for his tastes.

Swinging the door open to the clinic he announced, "Dr. House is in the house! Who keeps calling me like I give a crap about what goes on down here?"

Nurse Ratchet stared at him nonplussed by his obnoxious behavior. She'd been there almost as long as he had been and she was completely immune to his particular way of dealing with patients, nurses and the like. "One of your yeasty cheerleaders is here with her grandmother. She insists that she won't see anyone but you, " she said handing over the red folder, "Exam 1." As soon as he touched the file, she left the nurses' station like she had tagged him 'it'. Rolling his eyes, he signed into the doctor's log because if he was going to spend any amount of time down here he was sure as hell getting credit for it.

He limped over to the door and pushed it open. Inside, he found the cheerleader named Kara and an old Asian woman sitting on the exam table.

"OMG… what took you so long?" Kara said hoping off the back of the table coming up to him with her tiny hands on her hips. Damn, no cheerleader outfit today.

"WTF, " he griped, "since when did I become your personal doctor?"

She crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly, "Since you're like the only doctor I trust. Duh."

He closed the door behind him and rolled his eyes at her. "Please tell me Grandma doesn't have a yeast infection and that you're just here to try and scam some more birth control pills?"

Kara's face grew concerned as she moved to her grandmother's side. "No, my grandma doesn't feel well."

House went over to the exam table and stood in front of Grandma. He looked into her eyes and saw his reflection in her glassy pupils. "Does grandma speak English?" He ckecked her pupil reaction and her glands with his fingers.

Kara shook her head. "No. "

Grandma said something to her in Chinese. Kara answered back and then turned to him. "She says to tell you that she feels like she can't take a deep breath and that she's very tired."

"How long?" he asked taking out his stethoscope and placing them in his ears.

After conversing , she said. "Since yesterday."

"Any pain?" he asked listening to her lungs as she breathed normally. Kara asked and then shook her head 'no'. He indicated to Grandma to breathe in deeply by mimicking it with his hands and she did so. He was hearing decreased breath sounds. "Did she do anything strenuous this weekend?" Again the answers was 'no'. He listened to her heart and was not totally satisfied with what he heard. "Ok, I'm going to send a nurse in here to take some blood and set you up with some tests."

Kara's round face grew very concerned. "What kind of tests?"

"Blood tests, cardiac enzymes and an electrocardiogram, " he told her.

Grandma spoke in a flurry of Chinese now concerned herself because of Kara's reaction. House told her not to worry in what little he remembered of his studies of Chinese. "You speak Mandarin?" Kara asked with awe in her voice.

"I can say 'I am an excellent doctor' and ask where to find a strip club; anything more than that and I might be telling you your baby looks like a stuffed chicken, " he said with a shrug.

"Cool, " Kara said and then grabbed his arm worriedly as he opened the door to leave. "Where are you going?"

"I'm done until the test results come back, " he said.

"What do I do until then?" she asked him looking very much like a little girl instead of a young woman.

"Go with your grandma when they do the tests. You're going to have to translate, " he said and then scrawled his cell number on the corner of the intake form. He ripped it off and handed it to her. "Call me if you need me. And this is sacred… so don't you dare give it to anyone else, understand?"

She nodded and then reached out to hug him. He popped his cane up to stop her and she stuck her tongue out at him. "Fine, be an old poop."

"Don't be a brat."

He left the room and then signed out of the clinic. He didn't want to run into Cuddy because then he'd have to ask her about Thanksgiving, so he took off to find a place to hide until lunch. He'd already done his good deed for today. Grandma was probably having a heart attack and based on the fact that Kara was the one to bring her in, there were some family issues going on. He'd get some answers on that later.


	52. Chapter 52: Big Brother House

Sessions 52: Big Brother House

He received a text message about an hour later. "Time out, " he said and reluctantly took his hands off the foosball paddles to remove his phone from his belt.

::omg so bRd. Cn u cOm K3p m3 cmpny??::

He stared at the phone looking at it like it was some kind of foreign code. "What the hell does this say?" he asked showing Thirteen the phone.

She peered at it confused for a second and then smirked at him. "_Oh my god, so bored. Can you come keep me company?_" she translated shoving it back at him.

"Is it really that hard to just type in what you want to say?" he asked dumbfounded. "That's what T9 is for."

::No:: he responded back.

"If you weren't so old, you'd get it, " she said with a smirk slamming the ball into the goal. "Yes!"

He frowned and dropped the ball back into play. "I'm not that old, " he objected. "I just don't speak pubescent girl. That's more your department."

"Oh, yeah, your cranky oldness has nothing to do with why you're in here hiding from a teenager, " she tossed back at him whacking the ball against the sideboards.

"I'm not her babysitter, " he complained. He stopped the ball with the foot of one of his guys and repositioned it so he could give a better shot.

"No, but would it kill you to reassure her that her grandma's going to be ok?"

He shook his head. "She's not going to be ok. She had a heart attack. They admitted her forty five minutes ago." He slammed the little sphere back toward her goal and she stopped it deftly with her forward. Damn he was having a hard time with his broken fingers. He couldn't control the second rail like he normally could. He was slow.

"So, you can still reassure her, she obviously trusts you, " Thirteen said. "Though lord knows why."

"I'm cute and cuddly, " he joked deflecting her shot.

"Yeah, must be that, " she muttered sarcastically. She grabbed the ball with one of the front guys and set up her next shot eyeing him under her thick lashes. "Seriously House, you should go see how she's doing."

He frowned and shook his head. He wasn't going down there to spend time with her, reassure her or anything else. It wasn't his thing to hold patients' hands. Or patient's families' for that matter. She should call Cameron or Wilson for that if she needed it. Besides, she wasn't even his patient anymore, she belonged to the cardiologist now. And they hated each other. Why would he want to go down there? They might run into each other. And that would be a whole snarling mess.

"Why does this matter so much to you, " he asked.

She shrugged. "It's scary being in a hospital when you don't know what's going on. She shouldn't have to be alone."

He was silent for a while as they continued to play. He figured that Thirteen knew all about what it meant to feel alone and scared. Her mother had died while she was still in her teens and she mentioned her father even less than she talked about her mother. The young doctor had probably spent a lot of time on her own in and out of hospitals and home alone. That had to be rough for a young girl, no wonder she was so guarded about virtually everything. Not that he really cared… because he didn't. Really.

"So Cate says you don't do anything for Thanksgiving, " he said casually setting up his shot.

"Nah, not really, " she replied with a shrug.

"How come?" he asked hitting the ball hard in her direction.

She glanced at him and then brought her attention back to the rotating players. "It's not really a mystery. Nothing to get your knickers in a twist about." She whacked it back to him.

"I'm just curious, " he said innocently.

"You're always curious, " she stated. "It's an affliction."

He slammed the ball back to her side and it ricocheted off of the backboard. She tried to gain control of it but couldn't. "Curiosity is nothing I can die from, " he told her.

"Didn't you ever hear the tale about how curiosity killed the cat?"

"I'm not a cat, " he said with a smirk. Not relenting he pried, "So what gives?"

She huffed a sigh and blew her bangs up out of her eyes. "It's no big deal. My mom's dead, my dad and I don't talk much. We do our own thing. End of story." she slammed the ball back at him as he sent it to her side. It bounced off the foot of one of his players and he sent it careening into her goal with a forceful spin of his defensive players. "Shit, " she exclaimed stomping her foot. _Shit_, he thought to himself. That little flourish fucking hurt. God, he was such an ass… He reached into his jeans pocket and popped two Vicodin before continuing. Thirteen smirked at him with a glance toward his broken fingers.

Ignoring her, House grabbed the ball from the housing and dropped it into play again. "You want to come by us, " he asked casually. _Us_… Now that felt interesting… It's been a long time since he referred to himself as an 'us'. It felt nice. Weird, but nice.

She glanced at him with her mouth open and he shot the ball straight past her players and into her goal. He looked at her in surprise when she did nothing to respond to either the shot or his question.

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

She closed her mouth and frowned, her eyes growing serious. "Um… I don't think so."

He drew his eyebrows together. "Why not?"

She blinked. "I don't know, I just…"

"What, " he pressed again. "It's just dinner with us and Wilson and Cate's dad. It's just another day."

She eyed him speculatively. "Why, do you want me to come?"

He pulled back and stared at her. "I don't care if you come. Cate wants you there."

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. She watched him like she knew he was lying. Was he lying? He didn't even know… He really didn't care. He never cared about other people, why would he start now?

"Oh, well as long as you don't care, then I'll come…" she said with half a smirk.

"Good, " he said. His cell phone vibrated against his hip again. It was the cheerleader.

::I'm scared and lonely::

He sighed frustratedly because he felt this strong, armless tug pulling him to go down there. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he give a shit about this kid? First, he's all sappy wondering about Thirteen growing up alone and then asking her to Thanksgiving dinner at his house. His house for crying out loud! He didn't invite people over. If they were over it was because they just showed up. And now he was actually going to go down to cardiology and babysit this girl. God damn, he's going soft. He picked up his jacket with the end of his cane and flipped it up to put it on. "Gotta go."

He was out the door to the doctor's lounge and on his way down to the third floor. He shook his head through the entire elevator ride. All thirty seconds of it…

She was sitting in the rock hard chairs in the waiting area outside of the nurse's station. Her feet were pulled up under her and she had fit her entire little body into the small seat. She rested her head on her hand as she texted with her other.

He came up along side her and sat on the edge of the chair next to her. He leaned his chin on his cane and looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Hey."

She smiled warmly and turned her body to face him. "Hi."

"Is Grandma in her room yet, " he asked looking for a way to start the conversation.

"Yeah, she's sleeping, " she said quietly. "How come you're not her doctor?"

"Because I'm not a cardiologist. I'm a diagnostician, I diagnose diseases that are really hard to find, " he explained in the simplest of terms.

She nodded. "That's cool. So you kind of get the mysterious illnesses that nobody else can figure out?"

He looked at her. Well apparently she was a little smarter than she let on. "Yeah, exactly." He looked around the lobby area of this cardiac wing and sighed. It was lunchtime and his foosball game had worked off the last of his chocolate cake from breakfast. "Come on, follow me."

He hobbled over to the elevator and punched the button with his cane.

"Where are we going?" she asked cheerfully next to him.

"Lunch." He answered not looking at her. "I'm hungry."

"Ok, me too, " she said tapping her foot impatiently as she waited.

The elevator came and they stepped inside. A couple of nurses were there and they averted their eyes pretending like they hadn't seen him. He ignored them and pushed the button for the first floor again.

"Why do people always do that, " Kara asked with humorous irritation.

"Do what?"

"Push the button again when they know that it's already been pushed?"

He slid her a sidelong glance. "I don't know. Who gives a shit?"

"It's annoying, " she said.

"Why do people ask inane questions?" he countered.

"I don't know, " she retorted. "Who gives a shit?"

He laughed. "It's annoying." The elevator dinged and they got off. The nurses headed in the opposite direction laughing as the disappeared down the hall. One of them murmured something about how the teenager should hang around him all the time and the other muttered something about it dislodging the enormous bug up his ass. Nice.

He led Kara through the line. It was getting a little crowded and than put him on edge so he pocketed two bags of cheese doodles before he made it to the sandwich counter to order his reuben. She looked at him like he'd stolen a car stereo and he simply shrugged at her and told her to pick out whatever she wanted. She chose a chicken Caesar salad with fat free dressing and a water bottle. He rolled his eyes disgustedly. She ate like every other woman he knew. Shaking his head, he pushed his tray over to the cashier. It was the same one from this morning. She frowned at him this time making a face when he motioned that he was paying for both since he had walked completely away before leaving Wilson with the bill last time. He made a face at her and then led Kara out of the cafeteria.

"Does everyone hate you?" she asked skipping to keep up with him.

"Yeah, pretty much, " he said going back to the elevators.

"Why?" she asked. Ah the innocence of children…

"Because contrary to what you think, I'm an asshole to everyone, which is fine with me because then people leave me alone, " he said. They entered the elevator and he pushed the button to his floor.

"I mean you're a grouch and all, but you're funny, " she said picking at the chicken on her salad. "and you're nice to me."

"Yeah, don't get used to it. I only do one charity case a day."

They got off at his floor and entered his office. She looked around the room with a little bit of awe in her eyes. He narrowed his eyes at her. "It's not the Taj Mahal, it's just an office."

"It's a really cool office, " she said taking the seat in front of his desk.

He moved the red and grey ball and some of his office supplies out of her way and indicated that she use the edge as a table.

"So, where's the picture of the girlfriend?" she asked looking around his desk area.

He looked at his sandwich. "No picture."

"How come?" she poked spilling the dressing onto her salad.

"What'd I tell you about inane questions, " he griped.

"Well, you should have a picture of her on your desk, " she told him like she was an authority on the subject. "And in your cell phone. Please tell me there's one there?"

"Eat your salad, " he ordered. She cocked her head at him disapprovingly at his deflection.

He dug into his sandwich and regarded her for a minute. "So where are your parents, " he asked around a mouthful of food.

She finished chewing her lettuce and took a sip of water. "They're working."

"They couldn't take time out to take Grandma to the hospital?"

She lowered her eyes. "They can't take time off work. They won't get paid."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why? Did they stop paying lawyers a salary? And go for hourly wage?"

She made a shamed face. "They aren't lawyers, they're janitors."

House was surprised by this. "But you live here and go to Princeton Prep."

"I'm there on scholarship and minority assistance, I fill some sort of quota, " she explained with disdain in her voice.

Well that was interesting. "Scholarship huh?"

"I was recruited out of my grammar school for academic decathlon and debate, " she explained.

He raised his eyebrows at that little tidbit. She didn't strike him on first meeting as the brilliant type. The debating type, for sure but, brains wasn't the immediate assumption after her little yeast infection fiasco. Go figure… "Nice. Are your parents janitors by choice or by circumstance?"

"Circumstance, my father's a physicist but doesn't speak English so no one here will hire him, " she said. "My mom didn't want to do nails like everyone else she knows. She speaks a little more English than he does. But we survive."

"What about your friends, the wonder twins? What do they think of your underprivileged society?"

She shrugged. "They know but we just don't really talk about it. Because they know that I can't afford to go to a good college and their parents will like pay for everything. It sucks."

"Where do you want to go, " he asked. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I want to be a doctor and go to Columbia in Manhattan, that's like my dream school but, I'll probably wind up going somewhere in-state like UMDNJ or Rutgers."

Doctor, huh? Very interesting. "UMDNJ's not Johns Hopkins, but it's not a bad school, " he said. "That's why they have financial aid. I paid my med school loans off for like ten years after. But then again, I wouldn't base your future on me, if you land a really good gig afterward, and are smart about it, you could pay them off in maybe five." He grimaced at himself. Was he just giving her advice? What the fuck?

He finished the last of his sandwich and leaned back in his chair lacing his hands behind his neck. He was beginning to get comfortable when he heard the familiar click clack of the She-Devil as she came from the direction of Wilson's office. She had on a lime green sweater today with strange looking beads on the front accompanied by her usual ass flattering skirt in black. Her cleavage jiggled as she bounced in on her pointed shoes and he was disappointed that they no longer did anything for him. He had prettier breasts at home, fuller and rounder, soft to the touch… He blinked his eyes to clear that thought from his mind and took a breath. Looking down past his feet, he spied the pile of blue folders on the floor under his TV and pushed them further back with the tip of his cane so she wouldn't see them.

"You're case load has been almost non-existent lately, " she said coming into the office without preamble.

"Okay… isn't the goal to make people all better so they don't need us, " he said. "Because I remember taking some sort of oath about that."

"Yes, " she said tempering her speech like she would if he were three, "but there are plenty of other sick people that you could be of service to. They all don't have to be afflicted with some dangerous disease of the week. We're not on television, you know." She turned to look at Kara who sat quietly eating the rest of her salad. His new little buddy smiled a fake little smile at Cuddy and waved. "Who is this?" Cuddy eyed him suspiciously and lowered her voice. "She better not be another little teenage stalker, House."

Kara huffed and he waved her down. "Don't worry, she's just jealous. I won't let her call the cops."

Cuddy eyes went wide. "House!"

He made a face at her. "She's not a stalker. She happens to be the granddaughter of a woman I admitted for a heart attack this morning. I'm keeping her company for a while."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him like he had some kind of ulterior motive.

He laughed. "It's the truth." Cuddy looked at the girl who nodded her head in affirmation.

Cuddy placed a hand on her hip and turned back to him. "Fine. But, you owe me clinic hours for this week and I need your charts filed. I can't have Cameron come back to do them for you again. You either need to do them yourself or have one of your four musketeers do them. By Wednesday got it?"

"But Moooommmm, That's only two days, " he whined.

"Wednesday, " she wouldn't budge. She went leave but the sound of his voice halted her.

"Did you just come from Wilson's?"

She looked at him over her shoulder and then turned to face him again holding back a grin. "Yes."

"Did he mention anything in particular?" he asked casually.

She fixed a cocky grin on her face. "Maybe."

"Well?" he asked hoping she wasn't really going to make him say it. He was an idiot. Like she would ever take pit on him. He should know her better…

"He mentioned that you had something to ask me, " she told him in a baiting tone.

He rolled his eyes and set his jaw. She was going to torture him and if he didn't come home tonight with an answer from everyone, Cate was going to kill him. He stared at her for a long time trying to pull the jedi mind trick on her but his powers were a little off.

She smiled tauntingly. "If you say it, I'll give you until Friday."

"I'm not coming in on Friday, " he countered. He knew she wasn't either.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Monday."

He glanced at Kara who was watching the entire battle of wills intently and he choked down his pride. He really didn't want to piss Cate off. And she told him she'd be mad if he didn't do this small tiny thing for her. Small tiny thing, his ass… but after what he put her through last weekend he owed her a hell of a lot more than this. And, who was he kidding? He wanted a chance for sex sometime very soon. "Cate was wondering if you didn't have plans for Thursday…"

"Thursday is Thanksgiving House, " Cuddy said like he was an idiot.

"I know, which is why I'm even talking to you about this, " he groused.

"So what are you saying?" she said obtusely.

He scrunched he eyes closed and said it really fast like ripping off a band-aid. "We'rehavingpeopleoverforThanksgivingWilson'scomingYouwanttocome?"

"Aww, House, that's so sweet. Of course. I'd love to come." She tilted her head saucily to the side with a chuckle. "I already told Cate I'd be there. Charts are still due Wednesday, " she said with a little wink and retreated out the door.

"You're going to swim in boiling tar in the eighth circle of Hell after I kill you for that, you know…" he yelled after her and she waved dismissively over her shoulder in response. Kara simultaneously giggled and scoffed at the same time from her chair in his office. House shot her a look. "What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing." She denied wisely. She cleaned up her mess and tossed her plastic container into his trash. "I should get back to my grandma."

He rose from his chair. "Come on, I'll walk you back."

She smiled at him and let him lead them out the door to the elevator. Once they were inside he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. An idea popped into his head that would be beneficial for him and lucrative for her. "I have a job for you."

She looked up at him confused. "What?"

"I'll pay you a hundred bucks to sign my name to all those files under my TV, " he said.

"Isn't that like illegal, " she asked.

"I know you're signing them, it's a little different than forgery. I never write anything in them anyway, " he said.

"Okay, " she agreed easily. "I'll get them later after I see how my grandma's doing."

"Just don't make my signature all girly, ok?"

"Ok."

The elevator door opened and they walked down to her grandmother's room. He followed her in and checked the chart while she went to sit on the side of her grandmother's bed and spoke to her quietly in Chinese.

"Tell her not to talk too much, to just rest, " he said looking at the clipboard. O2 sats looked fine, she was on oxygen, nitroglycerine, streptokinase, heparin and beta-blockers. She was scheduled for angioplasty tomorrow.

"Everything looks good, " he told Kara and she translated. "Will your parents be by later?"

"Yeah, they get off work around six, " she told him. He nodded and put the chart back.

"The cafeteria is open until 7:00, " he told her, though he didn't know why he needed too, she could probably provide herself with dinner. "You have my cell number if you need anything."

"I won't bother you, " she assured him and he nodded. "I'll be by later to get the files." He limped out of the room. "And Dr. House?"

He stopped before sliding the door shut. "What?"

"Thanks."

He nodded once and closed the door. Enough with the overprotective fatherly act… He spent time with her, bought her lunch, gave her college advice and a job. Good Lord he needed a drink.


	53. Chapter 53: Sofa Time

Sessions 53: Sofa Time

House relaxed on the sofa and watched TV with Sexy Kitty curled up contentedly on his lap. He had started a fire when he got home to warm the apartment. It was frigidly cold out and he knew Cate would be chilled to the bone when she walked though the door. The fire crackled steadily to his left emitting a soothing radiant heat. He missed being able to look directly at the fire with the sofa facing it but he liked the plasma screen directly in front of the sofa so much more. For the sake of Cate's table though, he would sacrifice. Lately, it seemed for the sake of anything Cate wanted, he would sacrifice his set-in-stone ways. He sipped his bourbon letting the liquid do the job of the fireplace inside his stomach as he inched a little further into a comfortable slouched position. He had started dinner a little while ago and it was simmering on the stove waiting for her to come home. She had texted him when she left the hospital and should be here any minute.

After spending the last four days straight with her, he found that he missed her a lot throughout the day today. It was actually the first time they had spent a long stretch of consistent time together since their first date-slash-vacation day in the beginning of their relationship. However, much of this particular stretch of time was spent in utter misery and it was a little like an out of body experience. Not like he actually believed in those, it was just an apt description for what the whole incident felt like. It sort of didn't feel real to him anymore. The rest of the time, however, was much better. After she had given him the morphine, he was able to sleep and finally stop throwing up from detoxing. Whatever bug had attacked his digestive system had been tackled much earlier on in the spewing. It was the detoxing and the insurmountable pain that comes with it that had made him sicker than a dog. He had been through that more times than he cared to admit and each time he thought he could handle it but was sorely mistaken. After he had recovered enough to be able to keep down Vicodin, they were able to spend the rest of the weekend together pleasantly alternating between the couch watching movies or snuggled up in their fabulous bed telling each other stories about their lives as they got to know each other more and more.

He had never believed that he could be as content as he was right now in his life. He had a brief and shining moment with Stacey all those years ago but it paled in comparison to what he shared now with Cate. And that House never believed was possible either. He had thought that Stacey was the love of his life; that he would never be whole again after her. He was thoroughly wrong. Cate had found his long put away heart, enticed it to come out of hiding and thawed the wall of ice he had built around it with her warm unwavering compassion. She filled his emptiness of soul with her love and balanced out his extremities of spirit with her unwavering belief in him. He appreciated her for her humor and her wit and cherished her ability to calm him with a single look from her lovely eyes. He was happy. It was a long time coming but Greg House was finally happy.

He heard keys jingle outside in the hallway followed soon after by the opening of the door. "Oh my god, do I smell dinner?" she asked taking her coat off and putting it in the closet down the hall before hurrying back to him and snuggling up along side him on the couch. She sat carefully to his side avoiding his damaged thigh as if it were second nature to her now and laced her fingers around the back of his neck placing a hello kiss on his lips. Sexy Kitty moaned in irritation at being jostled around but then replaced her chin on his thigh with a purr. "So, what's the occasion?"

He shrugged and ran his hand up and down her back in soothing circles. "Just felt like cooking."

She murmured in silent appreciation. "Well, it smells incredible. What is it?"

"Chicken cacciatore," he told her with a smile.

She grinned back at him. "From Giada?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I downloaded the recipe at work today. And then went shopping." One of the things they had gotten sucked into on TV was a series of cooking shows on _the Food Network_. Though he would never admit that to anyone even if under the severest of torture. They had specifically liked what Giada diLaurentis was making but neither of them thought it'd be a wise idea to have Italian food so soon after a stomach virus. But, tonight was a different story.

She giggled with anticipation. "Ooo, I'm so excited."

He kissed her sweetly on the lips and then patted his hand on her butt. "Go get changed so we can eat. I'm starving."

"Okay, " she said tearing herself away from him with a sigh.

A short time and a trip to the bathroom later she padded back into the living room wearing his Who T-shirt and a pair of his pajama bottoms. A smile tipped at the corners of his mouth as he watched her come back to him. He loved it when she wore his cloths to sleep in. It was so much sexier than any kind if lingerie she could have put on. As fun as that stuff could be, the look of her in his clothes made his heart race. There was something ridiculously possessive about it but he didn't care. She was his. If they were in high school he might have even given her his varsity jacket and class ring. _God, where the hell did that come from? He had to stop hanging out with teenage cheerleaders…_

She hopped onto the sofa and tucked her bare feet under her butt. And he reached under and pulled one of her feet out. "Hey…" she complained with a giggle as she tipped backward.

"Where are your socks?" he demanded.

"It's toasty warm in here, it feels nice, " she said running her foot down the length of his leg. "How come you're not in jammies yet?"

"That's not an answer to my question and don't think you can distract me by rubbing your sexy little feet on me, " he said.

"Oh no?" she said with a sly little smile. "What if I do this?" She rose to her knees and leaned over his shoulder. She breathed into his ear and traced a delicate finger along the outer curve of his earlobe, down his neck, under his t-shirt collar and back up his throat, over his chin, to his lips. His pulse beat steadily in his neck and he caught her finger between his teeth biting down gently but with a little pressure to halt her progress. "Are you distracted yet?" she asked in a throaty voice.

"Uh uh, " he murmured. He threw the cat from his lap earning a disgruntled hiss from his furry girlfriend. He was much more into what he real girlfriend had in mind.

She leaned in closer and he could smell to faint scent of her perfume lingering on her skin. "How about this, " she teased taking her soft lips down the same path trailing hot kisses down his neck and up his throat. "And you didn't answer me either… How come you're not in jammies yet?" Her lips stopped just below his and she stuck the tip of her tongue out to deftly outline the shape of his lips. Persuaded by her teasing, he ran his hands up her arms to trail over her slim shoulders and down her flat back making large soothing circles against the fabric of his t-shirt on her body.

Dipping his tongue into the soft recesses of her mouth he said, "I came home… and immediately slaved… over a hot… stove… for you." He kissed her once thoroughly and she moaned in the back of her throat. Pulling his lips away from her, he said, "I didn't have time to change."

"Well maybe we can remedy that, "she hummed a little sigh over his lips and threw her leg over his lap straddling his hips with her thighs. Her hand came to both sides of his face and she dipped her tongue into his mouth once more as he let out a groan when his hands cupped the fullest part of her ass. He could feel through the thin fabric that she had no underwear on underneath the pajama bottoms and the notion of that excited him more than her just wearing his clothes. The thought of dinner completely disappear and was replaced by a new hunger as she ran her fingers underneath his shirt raking her nails teasingly over his chest down to his stomach to pull impatiently at the hem of his t-shirt. He reluctantly released his hands from her setting her down fully onto his hips and let her drag the shirt over his head. She brought her lips to his again and kissed him deeper. Her hips rocked into him rubbing enticingly over him sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him. He let out an animalistic groan and pulled her closer to him crushing her breasts against his chest.

Suddenly aware that he no longer wanted her in his shirt, he needed to feel her skin on his. With a sense of urgency, he pulled the t-shirt up and over her head exposing her beautiful full breasts to him in the dim amber light from the fire. She was exquisite. Soft and full, rosy pink tipped perfection. He stared openly admiring for the first time what his hands had ventured to discover way before his eyes ever did. Her velvety dark eyes caught fire as a slow smile stole over her lips, the curtain of her hair cascading over her shoulders tickling the tips of her breasts into budded peaks. He ran his flattened palm from her neck down the valley between her breasts reveling in the softness of her creamy skin. He brought both hands to gently cup the suppleness of her breasts, pinching the budded peaks of her nipples between his fingers eliciting a throaty moan from her and an urgent grind of her hips against his rock hard erection. He gasped as she undulated over him placing her hands firmly on his chest for leverage. His breath became ragged as he watched her move seductively above him falling into the rhythm of her hips. He slid his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him crushing her lips to his in a kiss that was no longer gentle but full of aching need.

With the strength of his arms he pulled her tightly to him and flipped her onto her back against the cushions of the sofa. Se let out a gasp of surprise at the swift motion but then settled in with a sexy purr as he shifted her hips under him. He trailed hot kisses down the elegant curve of her neck to her collar bone before dipping lower to take one taught nipple into his mouth teasing it with a flick of his tongue. The delicate scent of her perfume teased his senses reminding him of how much he loved the smell of her skin. She arched up against him with a moan of pleasure threading her fingers through the back of his hair urging him, pleading with him to simultaneously stop and yet continue the exquisite torture. Her fingers conveying the need that her mind could no longer form.

They had both waited so long for this moment to arrive. Their hands roamed, curving over surfaces they so longed to touch. Their lips moved in silent rhythm joining gracefully in a dance of hot slick tongues. Each touch, each kiss awakening a new desire and new need to be sated. Their chests rose and fell in tandem, their breath comingling, becoming one. House had never wanted a woman so badly in his life. He thought he might explode with desire before he even came close to entering her.

Slowly he moved his hand down the taught muscles of her stomach to the waist band of his pants she wore. He slipped his fingers underneath the elastic edge curling them around the curve of her hip to cradle her soft full ass against his palm. A distant sound penetrated the haze of their lovemaking and he lifted his head to look into her eyes. _Did she hear it too?_

She froze, her whole body going stiff underneath him. _Yup, he wasn't imagining it. She heard it too._

"What the fuck?" he ground out between his teeth. Someone was knocking on the door.

She let out a frustrated whimper and dropped her head back against the leather of the couch. "No, no, no…!"

The door knocked louder and more intently. He let out a feral growl. He was going to kill someone. Actually commit homicide. He leaned his forehead against her collarbone in a useless act of penance. "Maybe they'll go away, " he whispered to her desperately.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her hands over his face. Her pout of disappointment nearly undid him.

The knocking became more insistent. "Go away, nobody's home" he yelled angrily.

"_Gregory, it's your mother!"_


	54. Chapter 54: Meet Mrs House

Sessions 54: Meet Mrs. House

"_Gregory, it's your mother!"_

That voice, that phrase. It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on them. House bolted off of Cate like he was a randy teenager caught fucking his girlfriend in the basement of his parents' house while they were supposed to be out at the movies. His eyes were wild with…with… she had no idea. She couldn't even name it. Her mind was still caught up in the haze of their desire for one another and her body was still reeling from his magical touch. Her most intimate parts hummed in a cacophony of unreleased pleasure. Her short breaths now coming from trying to redress quickly instead of the unadulterated passion she was feeling just a few seconds ago. He had tossed her shirt at her. She couldn't believe his mother was here, right now, this very minute. She pulled her shirt over her head trying to fix her hair to make it look like she hadn't just almost had sex with the woman's son right on the living room couch when she met his mother for the very first time. _Good God, did they have the worst timing in the world! _

He had pulled his shirt over his head not bothering to fix his hair because he never did. Instead he adjusted the crotch of his jeans taming his arousal for her. She whimpered, recalling the feel of it pressed against the juncture of her thighs and she bit her lip to remind herself that she wouldn't be anywhere near it for at least another couple of hours. Oh God, how she had wanted him. His touch nearly sent her cascading over the edge so many times that she thought she might go mad if she didn't have him inside of her right away. _How in the world was this fair?_ She took a deep breath as his eyes met hers for a brief moment before he opened the door.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" he said in a voice that Cate barely recognized. He sounded like a schoolboy. She was thoroughly intrigued at how he could go from raging sex god to petulant little boy in two seconds flat.

"Hello, sweetheart, " his mother said in an elegant but sweet voice, taking his face into her hands and pulling him down to kiss him on the cheek. "I've missed you so." She had to be about a foot shorter than him because he had to hunch down to accept her kiss. She was a petite woman, comfortably well-dressed and neatly coiffed. Cate could see the resemblance in their smiles and wondered briefly what his real father looked like.

Cate watched him struggle for a second and then embrace his mother in a quick hug before he stepped back to allow her to enter the apartment. She swept in without any flourish or airs looking around as if she had never set foot in the place. Cate crossed her arms protectively over her chest as a brisk chill followed her in from the hallway. The cool air did its last efforts to kill the heated desire that had been coursing through her and she cursed herself for not having a bra on and looking like a hung-over teenager after a kegger. Not the first impression she wanted to make.

House stood there awkwardly for a long moment before he came to his senses and closed the door. He limped about two steps back into the room and stood there unmoving. Cate waited for him to say something but nothing came. Doing her best to appear every ounce of the professional woman that she was, Cate came around the sofa and extended her hand to introduce herself. "Hello Mrs. House, I'm Cate. I'm Greg's girlfriend."

His blue eyes went wide and he dropped his head when his mother turned to him with a look of astonishment that disappeared as quickly as it came. The shock was replaced by a warm smile as she reached her hand out graciously accepting her handshake. "Cate, it is a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Blythe."

"It's lovely to finally meet you, Blythe," Cate said coming along side House. They looked at each other and both bit back mortified smiles. He had on her T-shirt and she had his. Thank God they were both his or this could have been horribly more awkward then it was already.

"Mom, Cate lives here with me, " he said wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her to his side. She could feel his tension in his hands as his fingers tightened against her side. She placed both of her hands on top of his to calm him.

"Well, it's about time sweetheart, " Blythe said looking him fully in the eye. He stared back at her with hooded blue eyes. He muttered something unintelligible and nodded his head. This was clearly not easy for him.

"Why don't we all come sit down and I'll get us some wine, " Cate suggested.

"That sounds wonderful, dear, " Blythe accepted. "It smells like you were just about to sit and eat, I'm so sorry to interrupt." House cleared his throat and Cate squeezed his fingers before stepping out of the curve of his arm. She caught his eyes with her gaze silently telling him that everything would be alright. She could see the tension in the lines around his eyes relax slightly but the firm set of his jaw told her he needed something much stiffer than wine to drink.

"No worries," Cate said pleasantly. "I'm sure there is plenty food to add one more." Cate looked at him for confirmation. He nodded and ran his hand over the back of his head.

"How much longer does the chicken need, Greg?" Cate asked casually as if they hadn't forgotten it was bubbling away on the stove.

He came to all of a sudden. "I'll take care of it, " he said moving in the direction of the kitchen.

Cate placed her hand firmly on his chest to stop him. "You sit and talk with your mother; I'll get the drinks and finish dinner."

His eyes flashed annoyance at her for seeing through his evasive maneuver but he relented when she angled her chin at him telling him that he shouldn't challenge her. "Just put the pasta on and warm up the bread, " he told her. "The wine's already open."

Blythe sat in the leather club chair that they aptly dubbed Wilson's chair, to the left of the sofa and Greg sat in his usual spot on the sofa. Satisfied that he would actually hold a conversation with his mother, Cate went into the kitchen and put the water up to boil. She poured two glasses of wine and a new glass of bourbon for him. She carried both glasses out to them receiving a grateful look from him as he took an immediately gulp. "If you'll excuse me for a second, " she said hurrying back into the bedroom to change into a pair of jeans…most importantly a bra… and her green sweater from before. In the bathroom, she ran a brush through her hair and then came back out to the kitchen.

"… I was just driving and came upon your exit on the turnpike and I found myself here, " Blythe explained holding onto her wine glass.

"Why were you driving all the way to Aunt Sara's at night?" House asked with concern in his voice.

Cate put the pasta into the boiling water and took a large sip of her wine before coming to sit beside House on the sofa. She tucked her feet under her as she had done not a half an hour ago. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and placed his hand on her knee rubbing soft circles with his palm against the denim telling her that he was ironically thinking the same thing.

Blythe looked into her glass. "I was supposed to leave on Wednesday and be there for Thanksgiving, but I…" her voice trailed off softly. She took a breath and composed herself. "I just cannot be in that house any longer."

House regarded her curiously. "Why?"

"Your father is everywhere in that house. And I can't stand it, " she said flatly.

He drew his eyebrows together. "You love that house. What exactly can't you stand?"

His mother sighed. "Everything. Everywhere I turn, I'm reminded of him. Sometimes, it makes me smile; sometimes I want to scream, because I can't stand the sofa. I hate it. He picked it out and God help me, Gregory, I've always hated it." She laughed and took a sip of her wine on a sigh. "I loved that man for fifty years but he had the worst taste in furniture."

"Among other things, " House muttered. He received an admonishing look from his mother. "So you just got in the car and drove?" he said diverting the subject.

"I jut got in the car and drove, " she said simply and then smiled. "Besides, I missed you and we didn't get to see each other nearly long enough at the funeral after that ridiculous mess with the stained glass window you and James created."

Cate slanted her head at House. "Stained glass window?"

House shifted in his seat under Cate's scrutiny and his mother's arched eyebrow. "Wilson threw a bottle of Jack at a stained glass window, " he said in a barely audible voice.

"They were having an argument, Lord knows about what, " Blythe offered for him. "And James got a little hot under the collar."

House chuckled. "A little?"

Blythe fixed him with a trademark motherly stare and he shut up. "I'm sure this one pushed his buttons until he cracked. It cost them $5000 dollars to avoid being arrested."

"Again?" Cate squeaked. "Jesus Greg…"

He rolled his eyes and took his Vicodin out of his pocket. He popped two and without any hesitation finished the last of his bourbon. The timer when off signaling the pasta was finished. Cate went to get up but he pushed her back down and went into the kitchen himself leaving the two women to converse alone without him.

"So Cate, what is you do for a living?" Blythe asked conversationally.

"I'm a psychiatrist. I work at the hospital with Greg, " she explained.

Blythe smiled. "Oh really. Do you two have occasion to work directly together?"

"No, not really, " she chuckled giving it some thought. "It would be interesting though." Cate caught his eye from the kitchen. He had a devilish grin on his face and she laughed. "I do therapy with my regular patients and rotations in the ER and Clinic. His patients are usually on death's door, so crazy doesn't usually enter into the equation, unless you count him and his team."

"Oh, he's not crazy, " Blythe disagreed vehemently. "He's unique in his own special way."

Cate smiled warmly. "Yes, he is certainly one of a kind."

"Alright, enough you two, " he called out the them. "I'm blushing in here." Cate looked at Blythe and the shared a gentle laugh. She felt remarkably comfortable around his mother so far. Her demeanor was pleasant and she could tell that she clearly loved her son. Cate saw him take out plates and silverware and went into the kitchen to retrieve them to set the table.

"Greg, this is the first time we'll actually get to use this table, " Cate said excitedly.

"I know, " he placated her. She knew he didn't really care. He'd rather eat at the coffee table in front of the TV. He only agreed to the table because she promised him they could have sex on it.

"We just got the table last week, " she explained as she passed through the living room. "And then we both came down with a stomach virus so eating anything anywhere was out of the question."

Blythe rose from Wilson's chair and made her way over to the table running her hand over the dark stained oak surface. "It's charming." She chose a seat on the left side of the table and sat down as Cate set the table. "I think the last time I was here was for about ten minutes in 1995. Greg was never one for sharing his domain."

Cate paused and considered the contradiction. He had welcomed her into his domain the first night they had gone out together. He had invited her in and never let her go, in fact.

"I never wanted Dad here, " he said carrying in the large bowl of pasta and chicken. Cate met him half way and took it from his hands before he reached the table. His hand went immediately to rub his thigh. His leg was bothering him, probably more out of stress than anything else. "Could you bring the rest in?" he asked her quietly so his mother couldn't hear. He hated more than anything to appear weak. She placed her hand on his arm and went back into the kitchen for the bread and wine.

When Cate returned, House was sitting at the head of the table and dishing out her plate while Blythe was patiently waiting for her to arrive to start eating. She ran her hand over the top of his shoulders before she sat down. He gave her a tiny imperceptible smile and placed her plate down in front of her.

"This looks incredible, " his mother said as she picked up her fork.

"Greg made it, " Cate said proudly. "Your son is quite the cook."

He shrugged and poured more wine. "It really isn't all that challenging."

Cate rolled her eyes. "Now, he's just being shy."

Blythe chuckled. "You never could accept a compliment, dear." She cut into her meal and tasted, savoring the flavors around her fork. "Delicious. So tell me, Greg, how long have you been hiding this lovely young woman from me?"

House looked at Cate and shrugged. "Two months now?"

She smiled. "Yes, two months give or take." She knew he had the exact tally breakdown of months, weeks, and days in his head.

"And you met at the hospital?" she asked drawing him into conversation.

"Actually, we met when Cate was at the South Pole, " he told her eliciting a curious raised eyebrow.

"I was there doing research on long term isolation on the human psyche, " Cate explained. "I almost died from a mysterious illness…"

"She had a broken toe, " he said stealing her thunder.

"He saved my life ," she said succinctly.

"How do you die from a broken toe?" his mother asked curiously.

He rolled his eyes making it seem like it was no big deal and Cate gasped in mock horror. "Explain why, " she said pinching his shoulder.

He grinned and then winked at her. "A broken bone can throw clots that can shut down organ systems."

Cate nodded her head vindicated and shifted to tuck her foot underneath her rear end to get more casually comfortable.

He looked down at her foot and pulled on her little toe. "And still with the no socks?" He glanced back at his mother. "The whole time I'm diagnosing her she wouldn't take off the socks, I could have solved her problem days before if I could only have seen the toe… now I can't get her to keep them on."

"We have a gorgeous fireplace that makes it toasty warm in here, " she said coyly. "I like to be barefoot."

Blythe nodded appreciatively. "I know exactly what you mean. I dread when the fall comes and I have to start wearing socks or stocking with my shoes. There's just something about having your toes free that makes all the difference in the world."

Greg was starting to relax and ease into conversation as they continued to eat and drink. They chatted about miscellaneous things from the weather to the past presidential election. It was interesting to discover that Blythe was a staunch Republican, seeing as how Cate had been a life-long Democrat because her parents were in teaching and law enforcement. Greg of course had many opinions but distinctly didn't care either way taking the stand that both sides sucked equally as much.

They finished dinner and retired to the couch for more conversation. Around 9:00pm, Blythe looked at her gold watch on her wrist. "It's getting late. I should go see if I can find myself a hotel to stay in for the night, " she announced preparing to leave.

"What? No, " Cate said vehemently.

"Mom, you don't have to find a hotel, " he told her. "We have a guest bedroom now."

"Honey, I know how you don't like to have anyone stay, " she insisted gently. "I'll just stay at the little place your father and I found a few years ago."

"No." He looked at her sternly. "You're staying here with us. Period."

Blythe looked shocked by his insistence. "Well, then. I guess I'm staying."

His mother was tired from her drive and they saw to her settling into the tiny room next to theirs before getting ready for bed themselves. Cate changed back into his t-shirt and pants and climbed into bed waiting for him to come back after locking up. He slipped his jeans off in front of her and draped them over the footboard after taking out his Vicodin and placing it on his nightstand. She could see his scar from under the hem of his boxers but he didn't seem to care anymore which made her happy that he was finally feeling comfortable about it around her. He stepped into a pair of his own jammie pants and climbed into bed next to her. He lay on his back with his arm draped over his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, " he said remorsefully.

Cate propped herself up on her elbow and looked down into his face. "What for? You didn't do anything to be sorry for?"

He shook his head. "My mother, staying here, dinner… everything."

Cate placed her hand on his chest and touched her lips to his. "Greg, it's fine. Everything is ok."

"I never expected her to just show up, "' he said. "She never does anything spontaneous like that.'

"Give her a break, she just lost her husband, " she told him. "Things have got to be weird for her. She wants to see you, to connect to a sense of normalcy."

"This isn't normal for us, " he said shaking his head and rolling his eyes to look up at her.

"Maybe she wants it to be normal for you, " she said playing with his hair. "Would that be so bad?"

"No, " he said. He rolled onto his side and ran his hand down her ribs to her waist. He leaned in to kiss her.

She dipped her tongue in with a little purr. "Wanna pick up where we left off, " she suggested trailing her hand up and down his chest.

"My mother's next door, " he said shyly.

She pushed hi m back gently against the mattress and draped her leg over his as she ran her toes up the side of his leg and kissed him slowly. "I'll be quiet. I promise."

He waggled his eyebrows at her, his errant hands slipping up the edge of her shirt to fondle her tightening nipple. "You normally get loud?"

She giggled. "Sometimes." She kissed him again. "So what do you say?"

He smiled and cupped the back of her head with his other hand. "I don't know…"

Slowly she trailed her hand down the length of his shirt to the edge of his pants. She slipped her hand inside the waistband and stroked him to hardness. He groaned at her feather light touch.

The toilet flushed in the bathroom not ten feet away and they both immediately rolled away from each other turning out the bedside lamps.

"Uh, yeah.." she muttered.

"See what I mean, " he murmured.

He pulled her close to him spooning her to his front. "I love you."

She chuckled. "I love you too."

"G'night, " he said into her hair.

She laced her fingers with his against her belly. "G'night."


	55. Chapter 55: Good Intentions

Sessions 55: Good Intentions…

House folded his lanky frame into Wilson's sofa and sat staring at the tip of his cane as he bounced it up and down on the toe of his sneaker. He was in a very contemplative mood this morning. He wasn't sure about what exactly… just things. Things that kept swirling around his head.

"So peace in the Mid-East, is it ever achievable?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah, " House muttered answering him. And then he looked at him. He had no idea what his friend had just asked him. "Huh? What?"

"What's going on?" Wilson asked.

House frowned and shook his head. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Wilson repeated and bobbed his head up and down. "Good, because you clearly look like nothing is gong on."

"There's nothing going on, " House said with a sigh. "I guess that's the problem."

Wilson drew his eyebrows together. "You're looking for a problem?"

"No, " he said irritatedly. "Will you stop being so obtuse?"

Wilson scoffed. "I'll stop being obtuse when you stop being so evasive."

"I'm not being evasive, " he defended. "Why would you say that?"

Wilson screwed his face up in utter disbelief. "You are the King of the land of Evasiveness. Obviously something is bothering you. You came in here to talk, so talk."

House stared at him. "My mother's here."

"She came to visit?" he inquired curiously.

"Yeah, " he said.

"Has she met Cate, " he asked.

"She's staying with us at the apartment."

"Oh, " he said. "That's different."

"Yeah, " he said again.

"So what's the problem?"

"Nothing."

"They get along? I mean, I can't imagine that they wouldn't, " Wilson said.

"Yeah, they get along fine. They like each other, " he told him.

"That's a good thing, " Wilson stated. "Because it's better to have in-laws than out-laws."

"Did you just make that up?" House asked staring at him.

"Well, no… I … I just know that it's true, " Wilson stammered under his stare.

"I suppose you're right, " he agreed and then was quiet for a moment. "I just don't like having her around… at the apartment. I feel like I'm twelve."

"How long is she staying?"

"I guess until the weekend, " he assumed.

"Well, you normally act like you're twelve so, go with it, " he said with a chuckle.

"Ha, funny, " he muttered dispassionately. Wilson shrugged. "Cate and I were about to seal the deal on the living room couch and my mother shows up. I swear to God…" He said when Wilson stared at him in astonishment. "And for the past two days, I haven't been able to go near her. I'm almost fifty years old and I can't have sex in my own house because my mother is here and I feel like I'm twelve. You know what that feels like?"

Wilson frowned, thinking about it for a moment. "That's gotta suck."

"You have no idea, " he groaned. "I think I almost cracked a tile in the shower this morning."

Wilson laughed. "Careful, you don't want to hurt yourself and be on the DL for when she actually does leave."

"Can you imagine having to live with your parents all of the time?" he said. "If she ever because disabled, I'm gonna have to put her in a home."

Wilson grinned. "I think you'd put her in assisted living anyway, whether you were getting some or not."

He tipped his head neither confirming nor denying that statement. "I love my mother but I'll be glad when she's gone." He was feeling a twinge coming in his leg so he pulled out his Vicodin and threw back two. "How about you and Cuddles, any action on that front?"

Wilson almost blushed. "Getting closer."

"You know she's dying for a baby right?" House said.

Wilson nodded. "I know."

"And you're ok with that?" he asked incredulously.

Wilson shrugged. "Yeah, I'm ok with that. We've talked about it."

"And?" House's eyes were wide with disbelief.

"And, neither one of us is getting any younger. It might be nice to have kids and a family, " he said almost wistfully.

"Oh that's rich, " he groaned throwing his head back. "You fulfilling her need to have a child is the ultimate sacrifice for your need to rescue people."

"What?" he spat. "You're way off base."

"Am I?" He countered. "Then how come you're just thinking about having kids now in this point in your life and it never once came up with your three other wives."

"Because I always thought about later and then we'd wind up divorced so it's a good thing we never had kids, " he said.

"You never had kids because you never wanted to spread your self too thin, " he declared. "You were worried there wouldn't be enough of savior Jimmy to go around."

"Oh and since when did you become such and expert on interpersonal relationships, " Wilson demanded.

"I'm not, " he said. "I just know you."

Wilson shrugged. "Maybe after Amber, I feel like I don't have any time to waste. I like Lisa, a lot, there are worse people to be planning a family and a life with, " he said.

"Well you better love her if your going to be having kids with her, " he told him. "Because I think she wants the whole shebang."

Wilson smiled. "I think I do love her."

House shook his head. "You fall in love like it's a seasonal cold."

"Better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all, " Wilson told him.

"Yeah, yeah, " House muttered.

"Now that you love Cate, you know it's true, " Wilson said knowingly. "Have you ever thought about having kids?"

House lowered his eyes at him. "Dude, I'm still trying to remember to put the toilet seat down. And how long have you known me? I would suck as a father."

"Have you ever talked about it?" he inquired.

"No."

"Okay."

There was a quiet knock at the door and Wilson called for the person to come in. Speak of the She-Devil, it was Cuddy. She smiled warmly at Wilson, a youthful blush stealing over her cheek and down her chest, as she greeted him. "Good morning, " she said to him sweetly.

She turned to him. "House, " she said in a flat monotone. "Your charts are due today."

"Yes, Mommy, all signed and in a box, ready to go, " he told her.

She set her tongue somewhere between her back molars causing her jaw to jut out as she normally did when she wasn't buying his sales pitch. "Which of your minions did you force to do all of them?"

He shook his head innocently. "I took care of it all on my own."

"Uh huh, " she said turning back to Wilson. She placed some files on his desk. "These are the resumes for assistants that you asked for. I think the first two look really good."

Wilson picked up the files. "Great. Thank you. I'll get on these right away."

"How come I don't get an assistant, " House asked like a spoiled child.

Cuddy turned back to House, "Because you get four doctors to work under you which you treat like assistants anyway."

"Aw come on, if he gets one why can't I have one?" He pouted at her with his best endearing puppy dog eyes.

Wilson rolled his eyes at him and Cuddy placed her hand on her hip. "Give me one good reason why you should have an assistant."

"So you don't have to come chasing after me to get all of my paperwork in, " he purposed. "It get's you off my back and you get your precious paper work. It's win, win."

She eyed him for a moment looking for his ulterior motive but decided she couldn't find any. "Part-time, " Cuddy said. "And no more than $12.00 an hour."

"Excellent, " he said with triumphant smile. He rose from the sofa and limped heavily to the door.

Cuddy turned back to him. "Do you need me to bring anything for tomorrow?"

He looked at her for a second, confused as to what she was talking about. _Oh, yeah, Thanksgiving…_ "Nah, just a bottle of wine and of course the twins, " he said pointing at her chest.

"Hey, " Wilson objected. "A little respect please?"

House shrugged. "What, just because you guys are an item now doesn't mean I'm gonna stop treating her like I always do."

"It would be nice if you did, " Wilson said with a little bit of bravado.

House scoffed and left the room. He limped back to his office with a smile. He loved getting under Wilson's skin like that. It was so easy.

He took out his cell phone and punched in the Y to bring up Yeasty Cheerleader's phone number.

::Are you in the hospital today?::

He waited a minute for her response.

::Yah. Grams in until Fri. Wassup?::

::Come to my office::

::Like when?::

::Like NOW::

He took out his PSP and played a little SOCOM Fireteam Bravo while he waited for her. He didn't overanalyze his move in asking Cuddy for an assistant. There was nothing to say about it. He needed someone to do his paperwork, open his mail and sign his charts. Period. The stuff had piled up since Cameron left and Thirteen wasn't in any hurry to take her place so she needed someone else to do it. He sure as hell wasn't going to do it. Yeasty Cheerleader needed a job. It was win, win, plain and simple.

She strolled into his office in a bright yellow hoodie and a pair of torn jeans. He shook his head figuring that she probably paid good money for a pair of threadbare ripped pants that she could have wasted on something like… college for instance. He looked at her feet. She had on these boots that made her look like a little urchin Eskimo child who lost her way. "What the hell are those on your feet?"

She looked down and turned her ankle to look at her boots. "Oh, these are my Fuggs…"

"What?" he was confused. He had just gotten shot by an enemy sniper so he pushed pause and looked at her.

"Fuggs, you know _Fake Uggs_, " she said like he was a moron.

He made a face. "Are they called Uggs because you have to be a moron to wear such an ugly boot?"

She pursed her lips and made a face at him. She held up three fingers in front of her forehead making the sign of a W at him. "Whatever… what do you want? I signed all the papers and alphabetized them. Aren't they due today?"

He nodded. "Um… yeah. Thanks." He clicked off the handheld game system and placed it in his drawer. "Sit down."

She eyed him suspiciously but took the seat at his desk anyway.

"I have a proposition for you, " he started.

She crossed her arms protectively over her stomach and looked away. "I'm too young for you."

He reeled back. "Eww.. No.. That's not what I'm asking."

She let out a huge sigh of relief and turned on her perky smile back on. "Phew, ok good. What is it?"

He made a face at her, disgusted at the very thought that she would consider him a dirty old pervert. "I'm offering you a job."

She regarded him for a moment. "What do you mean? What kind of job?"

"Paper work, filing, opening my mail, a couple of days a week, " he said.

"I don't know, " she said warily. "I have cheerleading and debate."

"Whenever your free, " he told her. She looked apprehensive. "Come on, twelve bucks an hour?"

"And you'll teach me about some medical stuff?" she threw in as a stipulation.

"Whenever I'm not busy, " he said with a nod.

"Ok, deal, " she said holding out her hand to shake.

He looked at her hand for a second and then begrudgingly took it giving her a curt shake. "Deal."

He took her down to Cuddy's office get her paperwork filled out. Cuddy, of course was suspicious, but then again he always had some angle. This however, was no ploy. Kara was all settled and he was on his way out the door when he was called by Nurse Ratchet. "Dr. Milton's in with a crazy chick in 2, she's wants a consult " she told him holding out the folder.

"Sorry, not on the schedule for today, " House said passing by the Nurses station to go to the pharmacy. "Picking up, " he announced with a cheerful ring of the bell. The pharmacist resignedly retrieved his Vicodin prescription and handed him the log to sign before giving him the bottle. "You're going to have to see Dr. Cuddy for your next refill. You are out."

"No I'm not, " he said confidently.

"You are, " he assured him showing him the 'no refills left' on the bottle. _Great_. House rolled his eyes, grabbed the bottle and went immediately back to Cuddy's office.

"What the hell is this all about," he demanded limping purposefully into her office. Kara, was sitting on one of the chairs filling out her paperwork for employment. He ignored her and went straight at Cuddy's desk. He shook the Vicodin bottle at her and tossed it on the desk.

Cuddy tilted her head, playing dumb. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, " he was in no mood to play with her. "I need more than a thirty day supply of Vicodin. And you know it."

Cuddy leveled her grey eyes at him. "I'm not refilling it until you get a PET scan to determine nerve regeneration."

He took a deep breath to temper his words. "There is no nerve regeneration because there is no muscle for the nerves to grown back in. After all this time, why don't you get that?"

"Get the PET scan and I'll refill the prescription, " she said flatly.

"Why all of a sudden do you want PET scan?" he asked.

"When was the last time you had an MRI?" she asked.

"I don't know two years ago, " he said shaking his head. "What difference does it make?"

"Cate say that you've cut back on your Vicodin and I want to know if it's because your nerves are starting to regenerate which could mean less pain, " she told him.

He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. "Perfect. That's just perfect." He leaned forward and snatched the pill bottle off her desk and left the office making a bee-line for Exam room Two.

He pushed the door open with a slam and stared at Cate. "What gives you the right to discuss my medical issues with Cuddy?"

"What? House!" Cate exclaimed as the female patient began screaming uncontrollably tearing at her hair and rocking back and forth on the exam table. She stared at him in disbelief as she moved closer to the patient. "What do you think you're doing? I just got her to calm down."

He went into the drawer and took out a syringe and grabbed the hysterical patient's arm. He stabbed her with the needle.

"What did you just give her?" Cate demanded incredulously.

"4 mg of Lorazepam, " he said off the cuff. The woman slumped into a heap on the table. "Good, now I can hear myself think."

Cate stared at him wide eyed covering her mouth with her hand. She balled her hand into a fist and her expression changed dramatically. "What the hell is going on here?"

"You talked to Cuddy about how much Vicodin I've been taking?" he advanced on her.

"Are you serious?" she asked, her eyes flaring.

"You're damn right I'm serious, " he flared. "You had no right."

"You came in here and drugged my psychotic patient because of this, " she yelled at him.

"You had no right!"

"You had no right to come in here and do that, " she said drawing herself up tall in front of him.

"You had no right to discuss my personal information with her, " he continued.

"Oh…I'm sorry, I didn't think I was broaching any kind of confidentially clause, " she exclaimed. "I was talking to my friend."

"See this is exactly why I didn't want you two to become friends, " he yelled. "She will use any excuse to try and control me."

"She's your boss and your doctor, not to mention your friend, " Cate screamed. "I think she has a vested interest."

"And you're my girlfriend, I'm supposed to be able to trust you with information I don't want anyone else to know about!"

"Lower your voice, " she hissed at him.

He shook his head in shock. "What?"

"We are at work, in case you have forgotten and there is a patient now, who needs to be admitted, no thanks to you, " she said in a fiercely quiet tone pointing at the knocked out woman on the table. "We'll pick this up at home!"

"What? You're going to walk away from me, " he exclaimed.

"Watch me, " she said pulling the door open to get the nurse.

He was so incensed he could barely contain himself. He hadn't been this angry since… hell, he couldn't even remember. He didn't even know what to do with himself.

"Dr. House, " Nurse Ratchet called from the desk. She held out a folder to him.

He gave her a disgusted groan. "I told you, I'm not in today, " he snapped at her and limped heavily out of the clinic nearly knocking over an elderly man on his way out. _Great. Just Fucking Great!_

_A/N: Ok, so this wasn't at all what I had in mind when I started this chapter but it seemed to just evolve which is what happens in real life, right? So, I think it's actually something important to explore, and ironically on the day before Thanksgiving in our world too…makes for high drama!_


	56. Chapter 56: Bad Results

Sessions 56: … Bad Results

House arrived home at 4:30. Thank the Powers that Be for small favors, his mother was not there when he walked through the door. He went right to the kitchen and poured himself a drink. He didn't even leave the kitchen before downing a glass and pouring himself another. He had spent the better part of the day stewing about their argument. He couldn't shake what he had heard. She had talked to Cuddy about how much Vicodin he was taking. He knew a friendship between them would be bad. He was trying to cut back for her and she went and told Cuddy? Why the hell would she do that? How could she betray him like that?

He paced back and forth with his bourbon in his hand. He was too agitated to sit down. All day long he had flashes of how Stacey had betrayed him. He had trusted her with his life and she made a decision that left him a broken man. He had vowed to never let anyone make decisions for him medically ever again. When he had the hallucination that led him to the ketamine after he'd been shot, he remembered how irate he had become when he thought that Wilson and Cuddy had made a decision without his consent. He didn't want any of them discussing him, medically or otherwise. It wasn't her right to discuss his medical issues. It wasn't Cuddy's right to decide what he needed to do for his pain. He hoped to God that Cate had not collaborated with her about the PET scan. That would be unforgivable.

Making another lap around the apartment, he stopped at the piano. He sat at the bench and placed his glass on top pushing it back far enough to not slide off. It had been a while since he'd played because he'd been so busy with Cate, because he had lost that sense of melancholy that often drove him to play to keep his mind off of it. He plunked out a few strands of a blues song and then transitioned into Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata but that was too depressing so he moved onto some Shubert. Yeah, because that wasn't depressing either. Impromptu in G flat major No. 3, ironically his mother's favorite. She said it reminded her of running water. He played for a while losing himself in the notes. Soothing his aggravation with the strains of classical timeless music.

The door to the apartment opened and he merely glanced up to see Cate walk in. His fingers paused and hovered over the keys.

"Don't even say a word to me, " she said coldly as she walked into the hallway and hung up her jacket.

"Wasn't planning on it, " he replied flatly and went back to playing. She slammed the bedroom door and he tripped on a note. Fuck. He stopped and sat there for a moment seething in his righteous anger. So much for music taming the savage beast.

No. He wasn't going to let her do this. He was pissed at her. She wasn't going to call the shots on this. He got up from the piano and grabbed his cane from the side of the couch. Hobbling down the hallway on a mission he opened the door to the bedroom.

"How about five words then – Are you fucking kidding me?" he shot at her and then realized she was standing in a silver silk bra and panties trimmed in black lace. With her heels still on. She turned around and glared at him. He blinked, his mouth going dry. God, she was a vision. _No asshole, focus. You're really fucking pissed at her. You don't care how fuckable she looks right now._

She whipped off her shoes bringing her down about a foot, it seemed anyway, and came at him pointing a spike heel menacingly at him. "I am so angry at you I could beat the ever living shit out of you for what you did to my patient!"

"What? You don't get to be the one whose pissed here, " he sniped.

"Oh no?! I called you in for a consult because I needed your expertise and you come in like a fucking bull in a china shop and tranq a psychotic patient because you had a bone to pick with me, " she spat. "It took six hours and restraints for me to regain her trust when I easily had it before you ever walked in."

"Fine. I'll go see her on Friday, happy now, " he retorted.

"Absolutely not. You won't go anywhere near my patient again, " she ground out. "You fucked up House."

He stared at her. Ok, she wasn't so cute anymore in her lacy panties. "I fucked up? You fucked up Cate."

She angrily pulled a tiny white t-shirt over her head. "Oh do enlighten me, for the love of god. What did I do that was so bad?"

"You betrayed a trust, " he yelled.

She pulled on a pair of back yoga pants. "Betrayed what trust?" Her voice was taking on that escalating pitch that made him want to scratch his eyes out.

"You talked to Cuddy about my personal stuff, " he said. "You know how I feel about that."

She rolled her eyes at him and stormed past him.

"You're walking away form me again?" he cried incredulously.

"Oh, please. It's not like you won't be able to find me, " she retorted. "I'm going to the kitchen. I'll see you in thirty seconds."

He stood stunned as she swept out of the room. Limping after her, he made his way into the living room. "That was bitchy."

"And you're being an asshole, " she shot back over her shoulder. Literally thirty seconds ahead of him.

He rounded the corner to the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. _Fucking great_. His mother was back. She was in the kitchen unpacking groceries. Cate was now helping her dividing stuff for dinner and stuff for tomorrow. He couldn't even have a fight in his own house without his mother knowing about that too.

Sensing the tension in the room, his mother slinked out of the kitchen and went into her room.

He shook his head and focused his attention back onto Cate. He had a right to be angry, he told himself. She had no right turning this around on him. "Not wanting you to talk to Cuddy about how much or how little Vicodin I take on any given day doesn't make me an asshole."

"No, Greg, what makes you an asshole was how you dealt with talking to me about it, " she said.

He rolled his eyes. Women. They always get caught up in the fucking details that don't matter. "It's my business. Not hers, not Wilson's or yours for that matter."

"Not my business? It became my business when I had to, " she dropped her voice to a fierce whisper, "when I had to clean up your puke from every surface of this apartment and shoot your ass full of morphine to make you stop detoxing."

"I never asked you to…" he spat angrily.

"Oh shut up, " she objected. "I know what I signed on for. I'll do it. I don't have to like it, but I'll do it."

He stared at her for a second. "She wants me to get a PET can before she'll refill my prescription."

"So get the damn PET scan, " she replied. "What the big fucking deal?" She pulled out celery and onions and large knife from the drawer in the center island.

"Did you conspire with her to blackmail me into doing this, " he asked.

"What?" she hissed at him.

"Did you two come up with this plan to get me to have a PET scan, " he repeated with more vehemence.

She made a face at him and began chopping the vegetables. "That's retarded. And you know it."

"How is that retarded?" he said crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the edge of the counter behind him.

"You guys are so caught up in your sick twisted little ploys to one-up each other that neither one of you can see reality any more. You're both delusional."

"What did she say to you?" he demanded.

She shrugged at him. "She mentioned something about needed to write the scrip on your refill."

"And what did you say?"

"I simply told her that since you were sick I noticed you cutting back on how many pills you take, that's all, " she said.

"And neither one of you ever mentioned anything about a PET scan?" he forced the issue.

"No, why is it such a big deal if she wants you to get one?" she asked.

"Because it's my leg. I decide whether or not I want to scan it, no body else, " he stated forcefully.

"She's your doctor, Greg, she can require you to get one, " she said.

"By blackmailing me with my pain, " he yelled.

"Instead of yelling at me about this you should be discussing this with Cuddy, " she told him.

"I don't want to talk to her about it, " he sniped.

"Oh that's mature, " she griped.

"It's my damn leg, " he said loudly.

"Right. But it's everybody else's cross to bare, " she said pointing the knife at him.

"Excuse me, " he begged in disbelief.

"You heard me, " she spat. "Oh you think that you go around living your life like normal not asking for help as if this disability means absolutely nothing at all. But all it really does is provide you with an excuse to keep people who give a shit about you at arms length so you can pretend that you don't give a shit about them."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Right, the psychiatrist has no idea how the narcissistic mind works, " she spat. "But that's right I'm not a real doctor and I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about."

He couldn't believe he was hearing this from her. He was shocked and appalled. And angry. Actually he'd gone passed angry into just numb. This had gone way too far. "I can't do this anymore."

Her eyes flashed up at him. "What?" The knife slipped and she gasped. "Ah, shit."

He lurched forward to make sure she hadn't cut the tip of her finger off. She grabbed a towel and slapped his hands away angrily. He stepped back away from her because she looked like she might bite him. She wrapped her finger in the towel and then held it elevated applying pressure to her wound. "What the hell do you mean you can't do this anymore?"

"I can't do this anymore, " he repeated letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Her eyes took on a cold chill of black ice. "What can't you do anymore? This fight? Or the whole thing? Us?"

"Both."

"Fuck you, House, and stop being a baby, " she said flatly to him.

He stared back at her in utter disbelief. Didn't she get what was happening here?

"You're not breaking up with me, " she told him.

"Yes, I am." There he said it.

"No you're not, " she said coming up to stand directly in front of his face.

"Yes, I am."

"No you're not."

He blinked his eyes at her. What the hell? How did he lose control over the situation.

"We have our friends and family coming over to celebrate fucking Thanksgiving tomorrow afternoon. People you claim to not give a shit about, but who clearly give a shit about you. We're having a fight and you're panicking." She paused two inches from his face. "Get over yourself." She moved away from him leaving him to stew in her wake. She was walking away from him…Again.

Stunned by the rapid decline of events, he took a second and then hobbled after her. She slammed the bathroom door in his face. With a frustrated sigh, he leaned his arm on the door jamb and called out to her, "There's crazy glue in the kitchen junk drawer to bond the skin together."

She whipped the door open. "I know how to repair minor cuts. Even major ones. I don't need your help." She stormed past him back into the kitchen. He growled in frustration. Again! Damn it!

That's it. He needed some air. He violently threw his leather jacket on and went to grab his keys. They weren't in his pocket. Fuck. Not his jeans pockets either. Fuck!

"Where are my fucking keys, " he bellowed. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

"There in the goddamn bowl on the credenza where you always leave them," she hollered from the kitchen.

He rolled his eyes so hard they might have popped out of his head if not for his retinal nerves. Fuck! She was right. Fuck! Fucking Mother Fucker!

He yanked the door open and took off letting it slam loudly behind him. Now he was the one that got to walk away.

Limp away.

Slowly.

Son of a bitch….


	57. Chapter 57: Mmm Brownies

Sessions 57: Mmm Brownies

"You're an idiot, " Wilson stated as he let him into Amber's old apartment which he ended up with as sort of a consolation prize for loosing the love of his life.

"How am I the idiot?" he asked grumpily coming into the living room and dumping himself onto the couch.

"Because, " he said. He had that tone that meant he was about to give him a lecture. "You're the emotionally stunted one. That makes you the idiot by default." He sat in the weird egg shaped chair looking completely ridiculous, however tonight, House was not amused. "I can't believe you tried to break up with her, " Wilson repeated the same phrase he been saying since he called him on the ride over.

"She pissed me off, " he muttered lamely.

"So, you piss me off all the time and I don't break up with you, " Wilson said matter-of-factly.

"I try to break up with you all the time but you still won't go away, " House said.

"You killed my girlfriend and I still won't break up with you permanently, " Wilson added.

House stared at him. "That was a cheap shot."

"If the shoe fits, wear it, " Wilson muttered.

House rolled his eyes.

"You're still an idiot, " Wilson said getting out of the sphere and going to the cubbyhole of a kitchen. "Want a beer?"

"No," he pouted. "I drove here."

"So you plan on driving back?"

"No. Yes. I don't know, " he whined. "Maybe." House shoved his hands into his jacket pocket and stared at his sneakered feet. "Hey, maybe I can kill this new girlfriend of yours too and then all of my problems will be solved."

Wilson poked his head up over the refrigerator door and stared at him like he grew two heads. "I don't think so, House. Cuddy is not your problem. You are your problem."

The sneakers were giving him any source of profound wisdom so House lay down on the sofa and contemplated the ceiling. Wilson came back with his beer and resumed command of the egg. House glanced at him and had a disturbingly odd vision of his friend sitting in a nest babysitting Cuddy's eggs like a surrogate mother hen while she was off at work in her oh so powerful job. He rubbed his eyes and went back to the ceiling. Much better. Less to think about there. God, he was tired. "She's exhausting to fight with."

Wilson murmured and took a swig of his beer. "Oh yeah?"

"She's like a fucking banshee, she gets all shrieky and refuses to back down, " he said.

"Good for her."

"Hey, " he glanced at him, "You're supposed to be on my side. Bro's before Ho's remember?"

"Oh, right, sorry, " Wilson said and changed his tone, "What a bitch!"

House had to laugh at that one. "I think she actually pointed a knife at me."

Wilson almost snarfed his beer. "She what?"

"She was waving it around as she was carrying on and cutting vegetables. And then she lifted it and pointed it at me to make her… point, so to speak, " he said with a tinge of dismay in his voice.

"Chicks can be scary, " he said. "At least she didn't throw it at you."

House eyed him from the couch. The bastard had a smirk on his face. "Is this funny to you?"

"No, " he replied vehemently and the chuckled. "Well yes, actually."

"Are you high?" House cried out in disbelief.

Wilson laughed full out. "No, I'm just so glad that the shoe is finally on the other foot for once and that you're here talking about your crazy girlfriend instead of me."

"I'm so glad to entertain you, " he muttered and was quiet for a second. "She's not crazy. I make her crazy."

"You make everyone crazy, " Wilson told him.

That's essentially what she said. People have been telling him that for the past nine years. Hell, Wilson must have said it to him at least a thousand times before. How come he never heard it until now?

"I've got to stop being such an asshole, " he said more to himself than to Wilson.

"It's a start, " his friend said plainly. "Go back to her, House, and apologize."

"It's not all my fault, you know " he protested.

"Doesn't matter, " he said with a rueful shake to the head. "It's never their fault." House vaguely remembered Taub telling him something along those same lines a while back.

House made a face. He didn't want to apologize. At least not yet. "I'll think about it."

Wilson placed his hands on his thighs and stood up out of the egg. "Well you're gonna have to think about it elsewhere because I'm going to spend sometime with my own girlfriend."

"I'll just stay here on the couch, " he said not moving.

"You're not spending the night here."

He shook his head. "I'll be fine right here."

Wilson had moved behind the sofa. He took both of his hands and with all of his weight for leverage dumped House to the floor. He landed with a thud.

"What the fuck, man?" House shouted angrily.

"Go home, House," he said with gravity. "I'm not aiding and abetting you."

House growled at him from the floor in astonishment Shaking his head and rubbing his shoulder which thankfully took the brunt of the fall instead of his leg, he reached out for his cane. Slowly he picked himself up off the floor and limped over to the door Wilson was now holding open for him. "You suck."

"I know, " he said clapping him on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah." He muttered and left. His best friend just threw him out?! God damn, he couldn't catch a break today.

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House just could seem to bring himself home just yet. He was still so very angry. So he drove around in his piece of shit car, pissed that he didn't grab her keys and make off with her truck instead. He punched the steering wheel and then yelped out in pain. Those were his broken fingers damn it! He pulled his Vicodin out and automatically dumped two from the bottle straight into his mouth. The familiar bitterness assaulted his tongue and he stared at the bottle realizing what he had just done. Mother fucker! He capped the little orange bottle and threw it across the car. This is what started all the bullshit drama in the first place!

_Get over yourself_… Her voice mocked him from inside his head. He rolled his eyes. God, he hated how she could read him like a book. He used to think he was so damn complicated, so mysterious and unattainable. What a crock of shit. Yeah, she read him like a book, like fucking _See Spot Run_, only it was more like _See Spot Limp His Sorry Ass Back to Beg for Forgiveness, Yet Again_…

He looked at the inboard clock and the digital numbers glared back at him 7:12pm. Still way too early to go home. There would be more talking, no doubt a word or two from his mother, having to eat dinner and talk about all those people who 'he didn't give a shit about but obviously gave a shit about him' coming over for dinner tomorrow. He couldn't stomach it. Not right now. He'd much rather sneak in under the cover of darkness and sleep it all away like a bad dream.

The green and white sign of Heaven signaled a choir of angels. All he had to do was take the jug handle and he would find his salvation. A Venti Double shot, White-Chocolate Mocha, Extra Whip and an espresso brownie. Starbucks.

He pulled his car into the parking lot and it coughed, choking to a stop. He slammed the door shut hoping against all hope that the force would cause all of the pieces to implode in on itself and fall to a twisted pile of rubble. Nah, not today. Just his relationship was going to implode today. He shuffled into the coffee house and was immediately assaulted by the jazz strains of somebody's version of Silent Night, bad version at that. Fucking Christmas… that was the next Non-Holiday he was gong to have to deal with. Damn her and her perky normal life. He hated this time of year. Thanksgiving, his birthday, Christmas, New Years. All of them sucked worse than the next.

"Dr. House, " cooed a young voice from the back of the store. The owner of said voice came bounding up to him in a vivacious, chipper fashion and blonde Heidi braids causing him to step backward. Yeasty Cheerleader Number Two, Shin Splint Girl. She had on a green baristas' apron. "So good to see you! What can I get for you today?"

He told her his order and she repeated it with perfection to the Rastafarian white kid manning the espresso machine. He was impressed. He didn't think she'd remember more than three words strung together in a sentence. He pulled out his wallet to pay and she placed her hand on his leaning forward. She looked around with her big hazel eyes and whispered. "Shh, don't tell anyone, my manager's on break."

He leaned in co-conspiratorially, "Ok." Cool, free dinner. Things were looking up.

"Want two brownies, " she whispered.

"You bet, " he said. Score! Dessert too.

"I'm so gonna quit this job when I hand over my basketball schedule, " she said grabbing his cardboard coffee cup and bringing it to the bar indicating for him to sit down. He reached into the little paper satchel and pulled out one of his brownies. He was about to take a bit when she stole it from his grasp. "What the hell?"

"Wait, these are like so much better when they're warmed. Back in a flash." She took his brownies and placed them into an industrial warmer.

Within a minute, she retuned to the counter with both brownies on a plate and a fork. The smell of dark rich chocolate teased his senses. Warm gooey brownies. He took a bite. My God, he might actually cry. She made big eyes at him and nodded her head. "I told you."

He enjoyed his brownie goodness while she watched him eat. "So, Kara's Nana's gonna be ok right?"

"Yeah, she's being discharged on Friday, " he told her. "She had a mild heart attack, she should be fine."

"That's good, " she said. Her cell phone tinkled like jingle bells from under her apron. She pulled it out. Shocker, it was pink, with sparkles. "Ooo, that b-yotch, " she grumbled angrily. Was there some sort of PMS full moon tonight?

He raised his eye brows at her. And sipped his coffee. Peacefully.

She texted viscously back and dropped her phone into the front pocket of her apron. "I'm so in a fight with Amanda right now."

He closed his eyes and tilted his head. _Don't do it man. Don't ask._ "Why?" _Fuck_. What the hell was it about theses girls?!

"OMG, you don't even know!" She went and grabbed him another brownie and threw it in the warmer.

"This is a three brownie story?"

She flattened out her hands on the counter. "This is a three brownie story." She came back with his new brownie on a plate. "Ok, so, I like this boy named Ray. Well, guess who else has this thing for Ray, who says she doesn't have this thing for Ray, but is always like blowing up his phone, doing his homework for him, meeting him outside of Mrs. Minchow's room just so she can walk with him to AP Stats, whatever, so big deal I can't take AP Stats, she thinks she all special 'cuz she's brilliant."

"Breathe, " he said boredly taking a sip of his coffee. She did. And then continued.

"Well, he wrote a poem about me for English class, because we had to pick some kind of muse or something, and she got all pissed because she found out it was about me and not her. I told her to get over it, because it was just a class assignment. So now we're in a fight."

He placed a fork full of brownie into his mouth so he didn't have to respond. She didn't seem to even notice.

"I should say whatever and just blow it off but, I really, really like him, " she said imploringly resting her chin on her hands with an exaggerated pout.

He took another bite of brownie and swallowed. "Was the poem good?"

Her eyes got all dreamy and she blushed. "Yeah, it was really good."

A reluctant smile tugged at his lips. If he thought real hard about it, he could remember at least two times he'd done that for a girl. Though he usually had better success with music. "You know there's only one solution to this, right?"

"What?" she questioned, all ears.

"You both dump his ass, " he said punctuating it with the last bite from his delicious, remarkable heaven sent brownies.

"What?" She screwed her face into a disgruntled pout.

"He's a player. He may even like you, but as long as he has both of you falling all over yourselves for him why the hell would he narrow it down to just one? He gets two and you get all the aggravation. " A dawn of realization came over her and he tipped his paper coffee cup at her in toast congratulating her on her light-bulb moment.

She let out a disgusted gasp. "What a jerk! That is so not cool."

"No boy is worth a friendship, " he said. _Oh. Good. Gawd… !!!_ Some one come and smite him down, right now, before he burst into flames for such an egregious lie. What an ironic twist of fate this was, he thought to himself. Here he was consulting with a teenager about almost the same thing he was trashing on Cate about. Almost. He was in the middle of Cate's friendship with Cuddy. Not because they were both competing for him but because he was stuck there by circumstance. And that sucked. It caused conflict and he hated that more than anything.

"You're so right, " she said with conviction. She immediately took her cell phone out and texted Amanda. What she said he didn't know, but the response that jingled back made her grin from ear to ear.

"This isn't going to wind up like _John Tucker Must Die_, is it?" he asked cautiously.

She waggled her fingers at him and continued to text. "Good movie, but no. That would take like way too much effort."

"Good." He supposed. Ok, enough of this nonsense. He rose from the stool and picked up his cup. "Thank you for the snack."

"Wait, " she said hurrying around the counter. She launched herself into his arms for a tight hug. Why did they always feel the need to touch him? He patted her shoulder two times with the handle of his cane and peeled her off of him. "Happy Thanksgiving, Dr. House."

"Yeah, you too, " he mumbled escaping the coffee Mecca well fed and relatively unscathed.

With the double shot in the coffee and the three brownies, he was practically vibrating when he stepped out onto the sidewalk. Well, what to do now? He still wasn't going home. Running his hand over his hair a few times he surveyed the strip mall for anything interesting. No such luck, only shi shi stores that Cate no doubt frequented. He frowned and looked out to the highway. There was nothing but car dealerships as far as the eye could see.

He tipped his head to the side. Hmm…

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

$25,000 and an hour later, House drove his brand spanking new Toyota FJ Cruiser in Titanium Metallic, which was really just silver but sounded way fucking cooler, off the lot. Never mind that the silver and black trim reminded him of the sexy underwear Cate was wearing. That had absolutely no bearing on his decision making process. The selling factor was the AM/FM 6-disc in-dash CD changer, MP3/WMA playback capability and nine speakers. Including subwoofer. Oh yeah. This truck kicked ass. It was fucking cool looking. And he looked cool in it. He looked like he was hunting for dingoes in the outback, which was totally stupid because this was New Jersey. But he didn't care. He had a new truck!

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House finally strolled through the door a little after 10:00pm. Damn, the placed smelled like apple pie. His mother's apple pie. He hadn't tasted that in over twenty – No. Shit, he was older than that, dude! Thirty years! The lights were dim except for the reading lamp by the sofa where his mother sat quietly with a book. Greta Van Susteren's talking head droning faintly in the background on FoxNews. He plunked his new keys into the 'goddamn bowl on the credenza where he always left them'. Shaking his head to let it go, he hung his jacket on the hook and came over to kiss his mother on the cheek.

"Hello, honey, " she said placing her warm hand on his jaw.

He sat down heavily on the sofa next to her. She was in his spot but he wasn't going to make any deal about it. She was his mom and she could sit anywhere she liked. It was warm in the apartment but there was no fire because he was the one who usually started it. Cate must have turned up the heat to sub-tropical like she liked.

Mom closed her book and watched him for a moment before speaking. "Are you feeling better?"

He flicked his eyes to the side to look at her. "Yeah."

She nodded her head softly and took off her reading glasses. "She went to bed an hour ago, " she said answering his unspoken question.

He nodded relieved that Cate was indeed still there.

She placed her hand softly on his and squeezed his fingers with a mother's reassurance. "Doesn't it get exhausting to always be on the defensive every minute of your life?"

He drew his eyebrows together. He was quiet for a long time. Finally he took in a deep breath. "I'm tired, Mom. So tired of it."

"Then change, " she said in her stoic resolve.

He shrugged. People always said that. She always said that, like it was so easy.

"Doing things, changes things, Greg. Saying or hoping things are going to change doesn't mean anything unless you do something about it, " she repeated her old adage to him.

"People don't change, Mom. I don't change, " he said

She shifted to face him. "Yes, you do, " she told him. "You've already changed."

"How? How am I any different than I was nine years ago?" he asked her.

She gave him a small smile. "There's a peace about you that wasn't there before. There's a calm and joy in your face that I haven't seen since you were a little boy. Allow that peace to be there, sweetie. There's nothing dangerous about it. Just let it be."

"I don't know how to do that, " he told her honestly.

"I know, " she said with a wistful smile. "You're a brilliant man, sweetheart but sometimes you can be so thickheaded, you don't know what's good for you. Say what you want about your father, but you get that from him." He rolled his eyes at the comparison but he knew it was the truth. She leaned over shoulder to shoulder with him. "She is a lovely, amazing woman, Greg. Marry her and give me some grandbabies before I die."

He laughed out loud at that statement. "I'm not promising anything of the sort."

"Just know that I'll be happy either way, " she said kissing him on the cheek and rising from the couch. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Mom." She left him on the couch with which he promptly kicked his sneakers off and stretched out on. He grabbed the controller from the coffee table and flicked off Greta to something way more entertaining like _South Park_. He was fast asleep in 2.5 seconds flat.


	58. Chapter 58: Always and Forever

Sessions 58: Always and Forever

Cate woke up to an empty bed. It was still dark. She looked at the clock. It wasn't even late at all. 10:45pm. Pulling the covers back, she got out of bed. She slipped on her cashmere robe and walked out to the kitchen. The light and the TV were both still on. He was sleeping on the couch. Involuntarily, she breathed a little sigh of relief… that he wasn't gone, that he was after everything, still here… knowing him, that he wasn't in jail or maybe even dead. Shaking her head, she went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water drinking some to wet her throat before picking off a bit of flaky pie crust from under the crisp white kitchen towel. The house still smelled like delicious cinnamon apple pie. Mmm, she couldn't wait.

Blythe had been a godsend. She helped her prepare all of the food that could be done before morning for tomorrow's company. They took care of the stuffing, the gravy, cut and washed the vegetables and seasoned the turkey. Everything was ready to be put in the oven. Blythe had even volunteered to rise at 5:30am to put the turkey in the oven, claiming that she hadn't been sleeping that much lately and would probably be up anyway. Cate had smiled and agreed, knowing that the woman was probably more excited to have a real family Thanksgiving with her curmudgeonly son than she was. They had had a pleasant evening working together in the kitchen, talking and drinking wine. Cate missed those times with her mother and it felt good to be able to share that with House's mom.

Flicking off the kitchen light, she padded back into the living room and stood over him watching him sleep. The little devil child in her took over and she pushed his head causing it to loll to the side, deriving a little perverse sense of pleasure knowing it would wake him up. He snapped his eyes open and sucked in a huge breath. She held back a smirk and towered over him. "Get off the couch and come to bed, " she said turning off the TV with the remote then going to lock the door. She came back to switch off the light but he hadn't gotten up yet. "Are you coming?"

When he didn't move, she turned to go back to the room. She wasn't in the mood to play his silent treatment game. Apparently he wasn't either because he grabbed her wrist stopping her. "Are we ok?"

She looked at him and came back to sit down on the edge of the coffee table. "What do you think?"

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I wouldn't have asked if I knew the answer."

"I asked you to come to bed didn't I?" she said becoming irritated. She took a deep breath and laced her fingers with his. She had to stop this. There was just no point in being mad anymore. "Yes, we're ok."

He tugged at her urging her to come closer. "Come here, " he said holding his arms out for her to lie down on his chest. Without hesitation, she lay down with most of her weight on his left thigh nestling it between her legs. He snaked his arms around her waist and pressed his cheek against her head with a sigh. Mmm, he was so warm and he smelled so good.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his shirt.

"Apology accepted, " he replied kissing her hair.

She waited to hear him apologize in turn but he was silent. After another minute, she lifted her head to look up at him "You have to say 'I'm sorry' too."

He shook his head and pushed her head back down to his chest patting her like a child. "Nah, now that you said it first…"

"What?" She tickled his ribs. "Say you're sorry…"

He squirmed against her laughing. "Nope."

"Say it!"

He grabbed her hand easily overpowering her fingers with the strength of his right arm and brought her hand effortlessly to his lips. He kissed her pointer finger where her band-aid was and then placed another lingering kiss in the palm of her hand. "I'm sorry."

She smiled at him. "Thank you." He let go of her hand and ran his fingers up and down her arms caressing her softly. She folded her hands on his chest and rested her chin on them staring into the beautiful blue of his eyes. "So, where did you disappear to tonight?" She sniffed at him. "You don't smell like liquor so it wasn't a bar."

He frowned. "Yeah, can't really do that anymore on account that I killed someone last time."

She made a face at him. "Don't say that. It's not true."

"I know, " he sighed and then gave her a wry smile. "I went to Starbucks and then bought a truck."

"What?" She blinked unsure that she heard him right. "Did you just say you bought a truck?"

He chuckled and she could feel the deep vibration through his chest reverberate in her own. "I did. It's so cool."

"Wow, " she said in amazement. Who knew he became marginally productive when he was really angry? "What kind did you get?"

"A Toyota FJ Cruiser with a kicking stereo system that plays MP3's, " he told her proudly.

She grimaced because she couldn't really share in his excitement. "I don't know what that is."

He pulled back to look more fully at her. She was actually too close for him to see her clearly. "It's one of those beefy Toyota SUV's with the white roof."

"Oh, they're cute, " she said with recognition.

"They are not _cute_, " he said the word like it was poisonous.

"What color did you get it in?" she asked with a smirk. All of them looked cute, no matter what color they were.

"Titanium Metallic, " he stated.

"Silver?"

"No not silver, " he protested. "Gray…ish. With metal-like… stuff."

She arched her eyebrow at him with a grin. "Oh, it doesn't sound like silver at all."

"Whatever, so it's silver, " he griped mildly. She had just essentially questioned his manhood with his color choice and he only complained a smidge. _He must be tired_. He tapped her butt and pushed up with his knee motioning for her to get off. "Go see, she's right outside the window."

Her mouth dropped open. "You got it already?" She hopped off him and hurried to the window. Moving the curtain back she peeked through the wooden blinds.

"Drove it off the lot." Slowly he pulled himself off the couch and limped over to her without his cane. He came up behind her and circled his arms around her pulling her too him as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Very pretty, " she said with admiration peering back out through the blinds. She smiled as he almost sighed like a new papa at his baby gleaming bright silver streaks of radiance under the streetlights.

"Not as pretty as you, " he said squeezing her a little tighter as he held her there in front of the window for a long time. She rested her head back against his shoulder and closed her eyes. No matter what he said, no matter what he did, she always felt like the most special person in the world when she was in his arms. He made her feel safe and protected and loved. Nuzzling his nose against her cheek inhaling her scent, he followed a predetermined path along her jaw to her ear. She giggled slightly as his scruff tickled the sensitive skin of her neck when he brought his mouth to the shell of her ear and whispered huskily, "I want to make love to you."

Cate drew in a deep shuddering breath and dragged her teeth against her lower lip. "Right now?"

"Right now." He flattened his palm against her stomach, pressing her against his arousal showing her just how ready he was. She gasped a little as her pulse sped up in her veins. He ran his hand smoothly under the hem of her shirt to cup her breast and brush softly over her nipple working it to a taut bud as he angled her head to the side trailing hot searing kisses down her neck.

"But…" she protested lamely in the face of their growing desire. His hands were all over her, searching, rubbing, working their magic to turn her on. "What about…" He kissed her throat dipping his tongue into the hollow of her collar bone, "You're mother?"

"Don't care anymore… I need you, " his voice was low and gravelly and it sent shivers down her spine. Turning away from the window, she pushed him back into the room, kissing him with a need like someone threw gas on an inferno. He shuffled backwards pulling her with him never breaking the contact with his hot mouth as it seared her skin. She could feel her panties becoming wet and she moaned loudly against his lips, his tongue dancing erotically with hers. Cate's legs shook as desire coursed through her all the way down to her toes. Good God, he was amazing.

Cate wanted him, needed him right now, like she had never wanted anyone before. She looked around and spied the dinning room table to their side. He sensed her search for a place and pulled back from her stealing all of his heat away from her, leaving her cold and clawing back at him for more. "No table. Bed, " he mumbled through the last vestiges of coherent thought. He took her hand and quickly led her to their room where he closed the door with a silent click before wrapping his arms around her once again. This time there was a ravenous frenzy of hands and tongues and lips that brought her to a whole new level of arousal.

She trembled with eager anticipation as he dragged his teeth along her collarbone, pulling her robe off and letting the soft knit fabric spill off her arms to the floor. He removed her small tank of a sleep shirt over her head and when her eyes landed on his, her heart leapt in her chest. His need for her radiated into her from the brilliant azure of his eyes, his pupils wild and dilated. He dipped his tongue in for a deep kiss telling her he was committed to this. There was no going back now.

Slowly, he slipped his hands into the waistband of her pants caressing and kneading the softness of her hips before sending her pants cascading to the floor with the rest of her clothes. There she stood in the soft bedroom light, naked and totally exposed to him. Her skin shivered as his eyes skimmed over her becoming an even deeper shade of blue revealing an ocean of feelings he could never express to her in spoken words. She raised her hands to help him to remove his shirts and then shoes, pants and socks her fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers, tugging and pulling to free him from the confines of his clothes. At last he too was naked before her, exposed and totally vulnerable. He was beautiful, lean and strong with the quiet power of a body of a runner. She ran her hands over the planes of his skin reveling in the smoothness and the soft tickle of his course hair on her palms.

His breathing became shallow as he brought his lips back to hers and kissed her slowly and sensually before pushing her gently back against the cool white sheets of their bed. She inched backwards toward the center of the mattress pulling him with her. They lay together their lips, legs and arms entwined savoring the new sensation of skin on skin, every nerve ending alive with an electricity that sparked like a live wire. He caressed her face with his long elegant fingers cherishing her with a faint smile on his lips and a world of emotions in his eyes. "I'll never leave you, " he vowed. His words brought tears to her eyes and she swore she would not cry. She kissed him in response telling him with her heart and her body how she understood that to be true. Her tongue danced with his as his arousal pressed against her core and she began to writhe with the need to have him deep inside her.

Sensing her urgency, he shifted his weight atop her. He ran his hands along her sides to her arms bringing them up and over her head lacing his fingers with hers holding them there so she was prisoner to his movements and his timing. He stared into her eyes waiting for her to plead with him, to beg for him to enter her. She shifted her hips against him allowing him access as a silent invitation. But, he remained where he was teasingly at the precipice. She licked her lips, her own breath coming in shallow gasps. "Greg, please…"

In one slow, long motion he entered her, his eyes never leaving hers. She nearly cried out in pleasure but she smiled at him instead lost in the seriousness of his eyes. They lay there for a minute, feeling each other, adjusting to the fit one another. The union of their two bodies joined and bound their souls. He closed his eyes and began to move in slow languid strokes, in and out. Cate lifted her hips matching his rhythm reveling in the slick smoothness of his movements. He was amazing and she couldn't believe they ever waited this long to do this. Wrapping her legs around him, she moaned out lout as he thrust deeper into her and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out again. He smiled down at her pleased that he made her vocalize her sensations. With each thrust, she whimpered a little more, panting each time he pulled out. He kissed her to silence her moans as his movements became more and more fervent. She squeezed her fingers against his wanting to touch him, run her hands over him, feel his muscles ripple underneath her but he wouldn't let her. No, instead he held her there watching her as he thrust into her over and over again. His motions long and slow, teasing her, stroking her to a heightened rapture that she had never felt before him. He was driving her closer and closer to the brink his breathing matching her pant for pant. And then at last with one deep penetration, he pushed her over the edge and she came around him in a white hot explosion of lust and desire. She lost control over her faculties and cried out, "Oh God, Greg." Feeling her pulse around him he drove into her once more bringing his own release, spilling into her on a tidal wave of ecstasy.

Slowly things around them came into focus. Holding his weight off her, he let go of her hands and rested his forehead against hers regaining control over his breathing. Cate brought her hand to his face caressing his stubbled jaw more in love with him now than she could ever have imagined. She knew he would be a fantastic lover, but what they had just shared was far beyond anything she could have dreamed. He kissed her on the lips and then brought his thumb to wipe at the tears she didn't even know she had at the corner of her eyes. "My God, you are amazing, " he whispered to her in awe. "Why the hell did we wait so long?"

She giggled into his neck and he rolled onto his back taking her with him so that she was cradled against his side. He reached down to grab his t-shirt so she could wipe away the remains of their lovemaking and when she was done he threw it across the room into the hamper. She settled into the pillow of his shoulder wrapping her leg over his strong thigh.

"How are you doing, do you need your pills, " she asked him as he shifted his weight a bit.

He shook his head smiling contemplatively. "No, surprisingly, I don't."

Cate smiled and traced a finger in the sparse hair on his chest. "Maybe sex with me is like really good physical therapy?" He laughed out loud and she covered his mouth with her hand, giggling. "Shh… we're going to wake your mother."

"I think you did when screamed my name, " he teased. She could feel her cheeks burn scarlet. He tipped her chin up and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. "I love you so much."

She beamed a smile back at him. "And I love you. Always and forever."

"Always and forever, " he repeated softly. "I like the sound of that."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Blythe House dreamed the silent dreams of a mother who longed to see her son finally happy and content with his life. She rolled onto the soft pillow with a smile on her lips. They were making her sweet little grandbabies and a promise of a new day…

_A/N: Finally……….!_


	59. Chapter 59: Thanksgiving Morning

Sessions 59: Thanksgiving Morning

The enticing smell of freshly made coffee wafted around the corner and down the hall way mingling with the first delicious scents of a turkey crisping to golden perfection in the oven. Sounds of the Macy's day parade echoed in the living room from the surround sound of the television components. It was Thanksgiving morning in Princeton, New Jersey. No doubt about it. House's stomach growled and he knew it was time to finally rejoin the land of the living.

He knew she wasn't in bed before he even opened his eyes. He had sensed her absence from his side for the better part of an hour now, but he was in no hurry to break the magic seal on the night they had shared together. Mercifully Cate had let him sleep, recouping from their night of lovemaking. He smiled recalling the two more times he had made her scream out in pleasure. If the small half moon scrapes and bite marks on his shoulders were testament to just how powerful her orgasms were when she was trying to be quiet, he couldn't wait to experience her in full blown unbridled ecstasy. She was everything he could have imagined. She was purely amazing. And he loved every minute of it. Cracking a blue eye open, he checked her side of the bed just to make sure. Empty.

He opened his eyes full to the bright sunlight in the room. God, everything looked so white in the light of morning. He dragged his hands over his face to wipe the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes and stretched his body from head to toe. Everything creaked and groaned and complained in protest. He grinned because it hurt so good. That was the most action his body had seen since… well, since a bus had tossed him around like a stuffed bunny in a dryer. Not at all anything to compare last night to but, true nonetheless. He hadn't had a night like that with a woman in a long, long… long time. And he certainly had never shared it with a woman he was deeply in love with. That made it all the more mind-blowing.

He chuckled and closed his eyes as he sat up and massaged his leg. His mother had never been much of a heavy sleeper when he was growing up. They had to have woke her at least once trough out the night. He smiled to himself. He was a grown man. He was going to be fifty next month. And she had said she wanted him to make her some grandbabies. Can't have those without sex. Not that that was the end result he was going for. Although there was that small issue that this was also the first time in a long, long while he had not used a condom. He knew Cate was on the pill, but he never threw caution to the wind like that, especially when it came to sex, because all sorts of unwanted things could come about. He didn't know how he felt about that, but apparently he wasn't overly concerned enough about it the three times they'd made love last night to wrap it up. Well, it was too late to second guess himself now. What ever will be will be. He popped two Vicodin to get the day rolling and pulled on a pair of boxers and jammie pants before standing to find himself a t-shirt. He found one draped over the back of a chair and smelled it. Good enough, he thought as he dragged it over his head. Coffee time…

He could hear them laughing in the kitchen as he hobbled around the corner without his cane. He denied that part of him that was happy that they were getting along so well. It didn't mean anything. Mom got along with everyone and so did Cate, so it was no big mystery that the two should hit it off. He didn't care if his mother liked the love of his life, because it didn't matter to him. Right? Why should it matter to him?

"Good morning, sleepy head, " Cate said as he entered the kitchen. She came over to him and placed a loving kiss on his lips slipping her hands up his chest to come around the back of his head. He closed his eyes and let her kiss linger for a bit enjoying her nearness. God, he loved the way she touched him. Her hands were so sensual and warm. In the couple hours that he'd been asleep, he'd already missed her. God he was such a sap.

"Good morning, sweetheart, " his mother said. He opened his eyes and saw her smile, a knowing grin hovering on her lips. He felt himself blush and cursed the motherly power she had over him to reduce him to an awkward adolescent with just one look. _Damn it, she had heard everything_. He pushed gently away from Cate and leaned against the counter behind him. Ironically it was the same position he was in the day before during their fight though today all was forgiven and forgotten. Cate handed him a cup of coffee which he accepted graciously. He watched her move around the kitchen. She had showered already and was dressed in a pair of darker washed jeans that clung to her hips like a caress and a v-neck red cashmere sweater. Her hair was straight and shinny and she had pulled back the errant strands that usually hung in her face with a clip at the top of her head. She was fresh and clean and absolutely beautiful. He couldn't tell if the glow was from their lovemaking or from the anticipation of entertaining family and friends in her new home. He smiled when she looked at him and figured it was probably a little bit of both. His mother was dressed in a pair of light colored slacks and pale blue loose flowing blouse with not a hair out of place. It was a decidedly casual outfit for her. He was glad this was not a dressy affair and that he could wear his usual fair, jeans, t-shirt and wrinkled dress shirt. Cool. Maybe it wouldn't be such a hassle after all.

"Do you want a little something to eat, " Cate asked as she stirred something on the stove.

"Yeah, I'm hungry. All of these smells wafting around in here is like waving a porterhouse in front of a junk yard dog, " he said through his gravely voice.

"Well, you can have a muffin, " Mom said taking one out of the tin. Apparently she had made blueberry muffins sometime yesterday, as well her scrumptious apple pie. He accepted the plate from her eyeing up the medium sized confection. That meger little muffin wouldn't even put a dent in his hunger. "You can have another, but that's it. Dinner's at 3:00."

"What the hell time is it, " he demanded looking around, because two muffins sure as hell wasn't any kind of sustenance. He spied the clock. "Holy shit, you let me sleep until 11:30?"

Cate laughed and sipped her coffee. She gave him a saucy shrug and he avoided his mother's eyes feeling that blush creep over his face again. The last time they had made love was somewhere in the neighborhood of 5:00AM when she woke him by straddling him and swinging her hair over his face to tease him awake. That was the time she bit his shoulder to keep from screaming as she rocketed toward ecstasy one last time before dawn. He rolled his eyes to clear his mind of that vision and placed the muffin plate on the counter and sipped his coffee. "You have plenty of time to shower and even sit around until everyone gets here, " she told him. Her little smile told him she was thinking about exactly the same thing he was. And if his mother wasn't there he probably would have bent her over the butcher block and taken her right there. "It's a relaxing day. No worries, " she said.

_Yeah, no worries_. His biggest concern right now was how he was going to be able to keep his hands off her for the entire day while they had company. Especially looking like a minx in those jeans. "When is everyone coming?"

"Around two, " his mother said cleaning up invisible crumbs that must have escaped when she took out his muffins.

He sighed and drank his coffee. This was going to be an all day affair from the looks of it. The table was extended to seat eight and dressed with eight place settings. Funny, he didn't even think he had that many plates come to think if it; though he vaguely remembered there being a few boxes of china when he moved her in. She had said something then about it being her mother's. No matter, it looked like they had it all under control. All he had to do was clean himself up. The Cowboys game would be on soon which would be good, because they could kill some time watching the game before dinner. And after, that's when the fun could really start. "Does your father play poker?"

Cate laughed. "Does a bear shit in the woods?"

He laughed. "I take it that's a 'yes'?"

"He's played poker every Thursday night for the last thirty years, " she told him.

He grinned. "Good, then this will be interesting." He turned and grabbed his cell phone from the charger. He punched in both Wilson and Foreman's numbers.

:: Bring money::

His mother clucked her tongue at him. "Gregory, you're not going to play poker on the Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah, why not? It's not like it's a sacrilege and it's Christmas. And even then, who cares?" he griped. His mother shook her head and threw her hands up in the air. He could have sworn she muttered "Honestly" under her breath before she left the kitchen.

_You are the Dancing Queen, only seventeen…_

:: Bail money or poker money?:: House made a face. _Fucker_.

::Poker. Asshole::

_Try to catch me ridin' dirty, try to catch me ridin' dirty…_

::Bail money?::

"What the hell? Why does everyone think I need bail money," he complained out loud.

Cate snorted. "Hmm, let me see…" she said sarcastically in mock thought with her finger on her lips.

::NO. POKER MONEY! Go knock off the convenience store on your way over::

_You are the Dancing Queen, only seventeen…_

::How much?::

::Couple hundred::

Cate turned to him with her arms crossed. "Don't go too crazy, my dad will clean up, " Cate said. "And then you'll never hear the end of how he robbed you blind on Thanksgiving."

"Call him up and tell him the buy in is a hundred bucks, " he told her.

"Are you serious?" she stared at him.

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" He smiled and she rolled her eyes.

_Try to catch me ridin' dirty, try to catch me ridin' dirty…_

::How much?::

::300 - 2 to play and 1 for me 'cuz you're a minority:: He grinned and pushed send.

Cate pointed her finger at him. "Stop picking on Foreman."

He looked at her oddly. There was no way she could see what he was typing from all the way over there…

She made eyes at him. "I can see it in your devious little smile, " she answered his unspoken question. Damn her, she knew him so well. He made a face that was equivalent to sticking his tongue out at her.

_Try to catch me ridin' dirty, try to catch me ridin' dirty…_

::Bite me. I'm gonna steal your two hundred while I bitch slap you with it and you cry like a little girl::

He laughed out loud and flipped the phone at her. "See, he can take care of himself." She rolled her eyes at him again. She came over to him and slid her hands under his t-shirt and dragged her finger nails over his stomach. His muscles flinched at her touch and he let out a little growl. He looked out of the corner of his eyes into the living room to see if his mother could see them but they were out of eyeshot. He stilled her hands because she was making him crazy with desire for her. "What are you doing?"

She smiled a coquettish grin at him and bit the corner of her red lips with her teeth. "Nothing." She ran her hands up his chest around his neck then and toyed with the little hairs at the back of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her up against his body as he kissed her deeply eliciting a little moan from the back of her throat.

"I missed you when I woke up, " he whispered.

"I had things I had to do, " she said quietly looking around and leaning in closer, her nose touching his. "Besides if I stayed in bed with you, I wouldn't be able to walk for a week."

He laughed. "You? I'm the one with the gimpy leg."

"I doesn't seem to hold you back at all, " she said tracing her finger around his lips.

"You want me to hold back?" he teased.

"Uh, uh. Not one bit, " she kissed him. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead on his chin. "I love you. You make so incredibly happy."

He rubbed his hands up and down her back in soothing circles. "You make me incredibly happy too. And that sweetheart, as we all know, is no small feat"

She kissed him and then pulled away wiping at the corners of her eyes. He smiled because he made her cry again. "You should go take a shower and get ready, " she said hooking her fingers on his as she stepped away.

"Ok, " he said with a nod. "Want to come with?"

She giggled. "No. I can't."

He shrugged. She was a smart lady. Wise choice. He gave her a quick kiss and inhaled his two muffins and the rest of his coffee before going into shower. Guests were going got be there in a few hours and he had some serious down time to accomplish before they invaded his space.


	60. Chapter 60: Thanksgivng Day

Sessions 60: Thanksgiving Day

Thirteen and Foreman arrived shortly after Cuddy and Wilson. The young doctor looked very urban metro with a dark turtleneck sweater over black tight jeans tucked into boots. Her hair was done poker straight and her makeup was flawless. Cate gave her an approving wink as she took off her leather coat knowing that the young doctor had dressed to impress a certain neurologist who looked equally as smart. Foreman was wearing a pair of dark slacks with a thin wool charcoal grey v-neck sweater over a white-t-shirt. He was comfortably yet stylishly casual. And he smelled good. Whatever cologne he was wearing had both of the women lingering in his embrace. Thirteen smiled shyly as he escorted her around with his hand at the small of her back. He didn't leave her side, not once.

"Foreman's on the prowl, " House whispered in Cate's ear.

"He likes her, " she whispered back.

"He shouldn't like her, " he said.

"Why not?"

"She's dying, there's a finite timeline, " he said.

"So she shouldn't live?" Cate turned to him as she handed him the bottle of wine to open.

He made a face at her. "No, I'm not saying that."

"Then what's the big deal, " she countered.

He regarded her for a moment. "They work together. Things will get awkward when he decides he doesn't want a girlfriend whose gonna kick off."

"House, " Cate warned quietly through her teeth. "Who says it has to end badly?"

"It's gonna end badly, " he said forcefully keeping his voice low. "She's going to die. Even if they stay together and he does the saintly thing and takes care of her, she will die."

Cate frowned sadly. "I know. Don't they deserve a chance to have what we have? Maybe share a little bit of happiness, even if it's for a short time?"

He touched his hand to her face. "I couldn't lose you like that after I just found you."

She touched his face and smiled. "Well, you don't have to worry about that. You are not going to lose me." She touched her lips to his and he chuckled pulling her into his embrace whispering his love for her in her ear. Cate smiled because this had to be the fiftieth time he'd touched her today. He couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. Not that she was complaining…

Cuddy entered the kitchen then and cleared her throat to signal her arrival. Cate pulled away from House who grumbled.

"Must you always be a bucket of ice water on my fun, " he griped at her with a grin. His tone was joking, not the usual snarky meanness he reserved for his boss. His playful mood was winning over.

She waggled her wine glass at him. "Do we get a little wine with the show or is it cash bar?" When House laughed, she stepped further into the kitchen. She too looked comfortably casual for herself. She was wearing a pair of dark washed jeans and a fuchsia silk blouse with a fitted white cardigan that had little floral embellishments. She toyed with her long draping gold beaded necklaces that she added for that extra bit of flare that she liked to go for with her dress as she waited for his response.

House took her glass from her and poured some of the dark red wine in. "You have to pay extra for the show." He poured two more glasses and kissed Cate on the lips before bringing them out to the living room for the new couple he immediately dubbed Fourteen.

Cuddy chuckled and watched him leave and touched her hand to Cate's arm. "I can't believe what a different person he is."

Cate looked after him wistfully. "This is the person he always was." He was so sexy today in his jeans and dark navy shirt open just enough to show his clean white t-shirt underneath. His hair was messed just so with the little patches of gray reflecting the light like silver. He had trimmed his scruff just enough to look rugged which she absolutely loved. He was so kissable that she was glad he was overly clingy today because she could barely keep her hands off him herself.

"You really think he was always this way?" she asked her with a genuine interest.

"I do, " Cate said. "He was just hiding under that really, really… really crusty shell." The two women shared a laugh together.

"He actually seems… happy." Cuddy noticed.

Cate smiled and sipped her own wine. "He is. I am. We are seriously happy."

Cuddy placed her hand on her arm and then impulsively hugged her to her chest. "I am so happy for you. I never thought I'd see the day that he became a human being again." Cate chuckled and squeezed her friend in thanks.

"Cate…" House called to her. "Your father's here."

Cate excused herself and came into the living room where House and her father stood. She hurried over unsure about what might occur between the two highly competitive men in her life. They hadn't been face to face since their meeting at the police station the night she had to bail him out. Unbeknownst to her that they had had a confrontational meeting in his office where they ironed out some concerns. She wondered if there would be any residual resentment from that initial meeting. "Dad, I'm so glad you are here." She hugged him affectionately and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She pulled away. "Did you find it ok?"

"Yeah, no problems, " he said and turned to House holding out his hand to shake. Cate looked at House who hesitated for a moment. Cate knew House never shook hands; she'd seen him blow off patients as if he could care less that they'd stuck their hands out for thanks or a polite greeting. She bit her lip praying that he would do this tiny favor for her. He looked at her and then stuck his hand out grasping her father's strong hand in his. They shook in time honored greeting, coming to some sort of masculine understanding. Then her father held out a box that contained a bottle of scotch to House. "I hear you drink the good stuff."

House nodded accepting the bottle. "This rumor is definitely true." He looked at the bottle and let out an appreciative whistle. "Twelve year old single malt scotch, very nice."

"I also hear that we have a game going tonight, " her father said.

"Did you bring cash?" House asked taking the bottle out of the box.

"Oh, I did, but I plan on bringing that and more home with me, " he said confidently.

"We'll see about that, " House said. He father clapped him on the back and followed him as he limped into the room. And just like that the tentative bond was made between them. _Alcohol and poker, what more could they want?_ Cate was a little uneasy, but pleased nonetheless. She realized that she needed for her father to get along with Greg more than she thought. She let out a little breath and moved over to the group.

"Everyone, this is my father Don Milton, " Cate announced taking her father's arm. Wilson and Cuddy shook hands with him first pleasantly introducing themselves. Foreman and Thirteen came up to him next and then he moved over to House's mother. "Dad this is Blythe House, Greg's mom."

Her father took her hand in his and a deep smile came over his face reaching all the way to his eyes. "It is a pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman."

Blythe laughed a bit embarrassedly. "Why thank you, you have such a lovely daughter. She has made my son so happy." Cate saw Greg make a face at the odd flirtation between their parents. She blew it off as nothing to worry about, her father was just being polite. Instead, she directed Greg back into the kitchen. "Why don't you crack open that bottle and pour my dad a drink? And while you're at it pour yourself one."

"What the hell was that all about?" he said as he took out two glasses.

"It was nothing, " Cate dismissed it as she checked on the turkey. It was ready to come out of the oven "I need help, this thing is heavy."

He came over to the stove and lifted the cooked bird out of the oven for her and onto the cook top surface. "My god, did you two cook a pterodactyl?"

Cate clucked her tongue at him. "It's a sixteen pound turkey. There's eight people and we want enough for leftovers."

"Of course, " he mocked. "How could I have questioned?"

She took an oven mitt from him and smacked his denim clad butt. "Get out of here if you're going to be an ass."

He tapped her back with the other one. "If I'm an ass, does that mean I can grab yours then?" he said reaching around to squeeze one of her butt cheeks. She gasped and hit him again with the oven mitt.

"There will be no grab-assing in the kitchen, " she reprimanded him lightly as she dodged he grasping hand.

"Oh, there will be, I'm going to grab your sweet little ass every chance I can get, " he told her wrapping his arms around her and sliding his hands down her rear end to cup her bottom.

Her breathe caught in her throat as he pressed her against the length of him. She bit her lower lip between her teeth and watched his eyes turn a deep blue. "We have company, " she protested lamely.

"And I can barely keep my hands off of you, " he whispered against her jaw.

"Oh good Lord, will you two get a room, " Wilson announced interrupting their little moment.

House let her go and she slid down his front. She didn't miss the little groan he let out before he reached for his glass of scotch. "I have a room. There's just too damn many people in it."

Wilson let a grin creep over his features. "It's only one day House. I think you'll survive." He handed him two empty wine glasses. "Your mother would like another glass of wine. And so would Lisa."

House waved his hands distractedly at him. "You know where the wine is. Help yourself and pour yourself a scotch, this stuff is good." He looked out into the living room. "If my mother has anymore wine, she's going to be wearing a lampshade on her head soon."

Cate peeked around the edge of the doorjamb into the living room. Blythe was happily in the midst of a conversation with her father, whose eyes beamed at the older woman. Cuddy was joyously engaged in the conversation, as well. Foreman and Thirteen were happily snuggled next to each other in the corner of the couch listening to her father spin his yarn. "Oh, God, I think he's telling the story about his deep sea fishing trip off of Belmar."

"Yes, and how they caught this striped bass they had to reel in for an hour, " Wilson said with a chuckle.

"And how Artie almost hacked off my dad's foot when they were cleaning the fish," Cate finished.

"Oh, I don't think he got to that part yet, " Wilson laughed. They both watched House who was watching his mother intently. His brow was furrowed in contemplation and he looked a little off kilter.

"I want to start bringing things to the table, can you two do that, " Cate asked.

"Nope, playing the cripple card. Gimpy leg and hot food, not a good combination. I'll get my mother."

"House, no, let her…" Cate sighed when he left the kitchen in a flash with her father's drink in hand. She shook her head and looked at Wilson who shrugged.

"I don't know what's bothering him, " he said with a 'you've got me' expression.

Cate rolled her eyes and handed him two oven mitts, so he wouldn't burn his hands on the hot bowls of mashed potatoes, candied yams, and stuffing.

Blythe fluttered into the kitchen still chuckling from the conversation. "Oh, dear, your father is a hoot and a half."

Cate smiled. "That he is. Blythe you don't have to help, Greg should have let you stay. You've done so much already."

"Don't you fret, darling. We'll get everything out there and dinner will be a hit, " she said placing an arm around her shoulder. "You'll see."

Cate smiled and leaned into the woman's embrace. She was glad to have her calming presence here. Not that anything was going out of control, by any means, but Cate had a tendency to over think and over do when it came to gatherings like this. She just wanted everything to be perfect.

Thirteen came into the kitchen then. "What can I do to help?"

"I think they've got everything. " Cate came over to her and excitedly clutched her hands. "But, you and I so have to talk. I haven't been able to talk to you since you got here."

"Oh. My. GOD. Really?" Thirteen said excitedly looking around. "When?" She had been poling her practically every day for a status update since she had discussed their predicament in the clinic a few weeks ago.

"Last night, " Cate squealed feeling like a complete teenager.

Thirteen squeezed her hands and squealed too. "Oh, Cate, I'm so glad. This is so rude but…was he as good as I think he is?" she asked dropping her voice low.

Cate bit her lower lip and rolled her eyes back. "Better!"

Thirteen giggled and hugged her tightly. "Gah! I'm so excited for you. Thank god because I was beginning to worry."

Wilson came back in to get another round of side dishes. Then Blythe came in to retrieve the gravy. They looked around nonchalantly and waited for them to leave.

"What about you?" Cate asked. "You and Foreman look like two peas in a pod."

Thirteen blushed a little. "We've gone out a couple of time for drinks and we did dinner last night."

"And?" Cate prompted.

"And, " she said shyly, "we kissed a few times."

Cate squeezed her hands back as she had for her news. "He smells incredible. Does he always smell like that?"

"Yeah, " Thirteen said with dreamy eyes. "I had it all over my sweater and I couldn't help myself… I slept with it last night, " she admitted looking around to make sure no one overheard such a girlish confession.

Cate's heart melted. "That is the sweetest thing I've ever heard, Remy."

"Hey, are you two gossip girls gonna join us, " House called into the kitchen from his throne at the head of the table.

Cate laughed and so did Thirteen. "Yes, dear! Just getting the wine." She handed her one of the open bottles and proceeded to open another before following Thirteen out to the 'dining room' next to the piano. House had put on some soothing jazz as background music on the stereo and the table was full of chattering guests. Cate was pleased as she sat down next to House. She ran her hand contentedly up his arm and back down to his hand. He squeezed her fingers and smiled at her. His eyes telling her that he was enjoying this very much despite himself and his initial misgivings.

"Whose going to say Grace, " Cate's father announced from the opposite end of the table.

Everyone got quiet and did the not-me looking around game.

"You've got four jaded doctors, two Jews and a my mother, " House said. "It's not looking good."

"Gregory, " his mother intoned.

Cate's dad made a face and she grimaced as he stated, "We can't have Thanksgiving dinner without saying Grace."

"I'll do it, " came a quiet sweet voice from the end of the table by her father. It was Thirteen. All eyes went to the young doctor. House's were the most speculative. He opened his mouth to say something and Cate kicked him from under the table.

"Good, someone with a proper upbringing, Catie, " he said pointedly like he expected her to be the one, but Cate had long ago given up on following the religion of her parents.

"Dad, " she warned. "Not the time." They all clasped hands and got quiet waiting for Thirteen to speak.

"On this day, " she began, "we give thanks for the bounty bestowed upon us of delicious food and good friends. May we live every day as it is Thanksgiving Day. Amen."

There was a muttering of Amen's around the table and the clanking of silverware began.

"That was lovely, dear, " Blythe told Thirteen from across the table. Foreman leaned over and whispered something in her ear that made her blush and House rolled his eyes eliciting a nudge under the table.

"Will you stop disciplining me under the table, " he griped. "There are other things I'd like from under the table better."

"Oh God, " Wilson snorted. "Please, we're trying to eat." Cate's dad cleared his throat loudly indicating that he didn't appreciate that kind of humor about his daughter.

"Shut up and pass the mashed potatoes, " House ordered. "If you were such the saint you should have said Grace."

"It's a good thing you didn't volunteer because God would send lightening to strike us all down for bearing witness to such blasphemy, " Wilson retorted.

"His new halo couldn't have saved us from that, " Foreman mentioned.

"I don't have a halo, " House objected.

"No he has little horns growing out of the top of hid skull, " Cuddy added. "I saw them on the MRI when he cracked his head open."

"They started growing when he was tiny little boy, " his mother added with a chuckle.

"Mom!" House argued, shocked by his mother's teasing. Everyone else seemed to find it very amusing.

"What was House like when he was a little boy, " Thirteen asked curiously.

"Shorter, " Foreman answered for Blythe.

"He was very shy as a toddler, " Blythe said with a grin. "He used to hide behind my leg whenever we met someone new. But he was also very precocious. He had to know everything." There was collective murmur of agreement and a very audible groan of displeasure from House. "He asked question, after question and would never go to sleep."

"Oh, you've evolved so much, " Wilson said through a mouthful of turkey.

Cate gave him a sympathetic look and he narrowed his eyes at her. Like this was her fault?

"Catie used to be the same way, " her dad added to the 'let's embarrass our hosts' conversation. "She would stand in her crib until all hours and stare at you in the dark like a little owl." Circling his thumb and forefingers, he put them both up to his eyes and chuckled, tickled by the memory. "As soon as we'd walk past her room there'd she be…" he put his fingers up again. Cate rolled her eyes and focused on her dinner, while everyone else was thoroughly amused.

"Aren't you glad we invited our parents?" House said sarcastically.

"Oh, yes, they're such a wealth of information, " she replied.

"Oh come on, it's cute to hear stories about everyone when they were little, " Cuddy said good-naturedly.

"Well, your parents aren't here to throw you under the bus, " House said.

"I used to roll my peas under the credenza, because I couldn't stand to eat them, " Thirteen interjected. "My mother wouldn't find them until days later."

Foreman laughed. "I used to run around in my superman underoos with my blanket tied around my neck. I jumped off the back of the couch and clocked my brother in the head with my elbow. I gave him a concussion."

"How old were you, " Thirteen asked.

"I was five, " he said with mock remorse.

"Wilson, your turn, " House said.

"Nah, we don't need to talk about my childhood, " Wilson declined.

House's ears perked up. "Oh but now we most certainly do."

"Come on James, " Cuddy prodded leaning her shoulder into his.

"Don't think you're not on the hook there Funbags, " House said.

"Gregory, " Mom reprimanded earning a disgusted snort from him. Cate raised her eyebrows and smiled. She was curious as to what Wilson didn't want to own up to.

"Come on James, " House mocked.

Wilson rolled his eyes and pushed a forkful of candied yams into his mouth. He chewed slowly. Then he swallowed. All eyes eagerly waited for his story. "My mother used to make me…" he paused and ran his hand over the back of his head. He sighed, "I had to take tap dance lessons."

House almost choked on his cranberry sauce. "Tap dance lessons?"

"You took piano lessons, " he shot back.

"There are plenty of cool male piano players. Name me one male tap dancer that isn't Shirley Temple, " House challenged.

"Fred Astaire, " Cate said.

"Savion Glover, " Thirteen added.

"Gene Kelly, " Blythe added too.

"Sammy Davis, Jr., " Dad mentioned around his turkey.

Wilson pursed his lips considering this for the first time. House rolled his eyes. Wilson turned to Cuddy, "You're turn."

"I think it's very cool that you tap dance, " Lisa cooed at him.

"I don't tap anymore, " he said sheepishly.

"Come one Funbags, what's your story, " House taunted her.

"Gregory, " Blythe reprimand again with more vehemence. "See what I mean about precocious?"

Dad was the only one to agree with her. Everyone else was used to his ribbing of Cuddy.

"Come on Cuddy, it's only fair, " Foreman said.

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of wine. "Ok. When I was eight I knew I wanted to be a doctor and my teacher told me I had to be good at science, so I watched the Mr. Wizard show. I decided to do an experiment and I set my mother's kitchen on fire."

"Oh, Gregory did that too, " Blythe said pointing her finger toward House.

House shrugged. "It's true."

"What'd you do?" Cuddy asked.

"I tried to melt gold on the stove, " he said. "What'd you do?"

"I tried to make green fire, " she said.

"Note to self, Wilson, " Cate said, "Don't let them near fire."

"Yeah, or he'll have to tap dance it out, " House joked.

"Your such an ass, " Cuddy griped.

Everyone continued to eat and eat and then eat some more. Cate received a wink from Blythe telling her that she too was pleased that everyone thoroughly enjoyed their hard work. Cate was ridiculously content with how everything was going. She had looked forward to this occasion and it had turned out swimmingly. She laced her fingers with House's and he grinned at her. She mouthed the words 'I love you' to him and he kissed her knuckles with a full smile. It was a really good day.


	61. Chapter 61: Thanksgiving Evening

Sessions 61: Thanksgiving Evening

The group did the typical holiday party protocol, the women sat down for coffee or tea and conversation while the men congregated around the TV to watch the game. Dallas was playing the Lions this year and all sorts of comments were flying about Tony Romo and his on-again, off-again romance with Jessica Simpson and how he'd sucked as a player since. The women, frankly, could care less. House had started a fire and the place was cozy warm with the lingering scents of Thanksgiving dinner and pie mingling with the woody aroma of the fireplace. Cate was content as she sat with her friends and Blythe at her dining room table chit-chatting like this was a frequent and normal occurrence for them.

"So tell me, Lisa, how long have you and James been an item, " Blythe asked the burning question that had been bubbling under her surface since the couple had arrived.

Lisa cheeks got that tell-tale glow as she talked. "We've been together for a few weeks now."

"After all these years, I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner, " Blythe said with her motherly intuition.

Cuddy shrugged shyly. "Sometimes you can't see the forest for the trees."

"Yes indeed, sometimes it is difficult to see that the very thing you need has been staring you in the face all along, " Blythe told her.

"I've spent so much time focused on my career that I've let my personal life slip by, forgotten and unnoticed, " Cuddy explained with a slight air of regret.

"You just weren't ready until now, " Cate said reassuring her.

"We shouldn't beat ourselves up for putting our career in front of our personal lives. Men do it all of the time, " Thirteen added. "Women are constantly vilified for it as if we should feel ashamed for wanting a career instead of babies."

"It was so different in my time," Blythe said. "Women had careers but then they gave them up as soon as they got married. It was expected to raise a family. You girls are luck y to have the choice now.""

Cate sipped her coffee and looked at Lisa. "You shouldn't feel bad for making that choice. Because now you and Wilson are a couple because of it."

Lisa smiled that glowing smile of a woman in love. "He is just so wonderful." She blushed and let out a girlish giggle and Cate couldn't help but join her. Thirteen smiled at both of them shaking her head.

"Well, I'm glad to see you two so well matched," Blythe told her happily. She placed her hand on her arm and chuckled as she said, "almost as glad as I am to see my son finally happy."

Lisa laughed and clutched the older woman's hand. "That was a long time coming, " Lisa said with vehemence. "Who knew all he needed was a little psychological treatment?"

"I knew, " Thirteen said with a little laugh.

"He just needed the right incentive to go, " Cate said with a smirk.

"Well, I'm sure the fact that youare incredibly beautiful, my dear, helped that along, " Blythe said to Cate.

Cate blushed and shook her head. "No, I was a mystery to him. Mystery trumps beauty any day."

"Mystery _and_ beauty trumps either individually, hands down, when it comes to House " Thirteen amended.

"Who cares, as long as he's more manageable, " Lisa said rolling her eyes.

"Oh, don't think that just because he's well matched that he'll be any less of a rogue, " Blythe told her. "He will never toe the line when it comes to rules and regulations it runs in his blood."

"Who does he get that trait from, you or his dad?" Thirteen asked innocently.

Blythe became passively quiet and then smiled politely. Cate watched her to see what her reaction to such a normally benign question would be, knowing the real truth herself.

She shook her head and waved her hand. "Certainly not from me, " Blythe answered her. "I was brought up a Southern lady; we never walked the line other than the straight and narrow."

"Wasn't you're husband a Marine Corps test pilot, " Lisa asked sipping her tea.

"Yes, he was, " Blythe answered.

"Aren't military men sticklers for the rules," Lisa questioned.

Blythe fixed a firm smile on her face. "Yes, military men are hard and fast to the rules."

Cate looked over her shoulder at Greg. He was busy enjoying the game with the rest of the men. She thought about what he had said about his father and how he had been treated. It was no one's business, Cate's protective instincts kicked in. "I assume that living with such strict rules when you're an inquisitive teenager means that you automatically rebel against anything you're told, " Cate offered in essence bailing Blythe out of an unknowingly awkward situation.

Blythe smiled and shook her head. "Gregory was not your typical teenager."

Thirteen rolled her eyes with a laugh, "He's not your typical adult, if you could call even him that."

"Stop talking about me, " House called over to them from the sofa and then let out a cheer with the rest of the men in reaction to something that happened in the game.

Blythe regarded her for a moment, "I take it you have difficulties with him."

The young doctor shrugged. "He's nosy, pushy, sarcastic, immature when he shouldn't be but, he's a genius which I suppose makes up for all that. Sometimes we gel."

Blythe didn't know whether to look offended or confused.

Cate chuckled. "I guess you could call it an antagonistic relationship."

"Most of House's interactions are that way, " Cuddy added. "Because I don't think you could really classify anything he has as a relationship except for you and Wilson, of course."

Blythe warmed her hands on her tea cup and considered the liquid inside for a moment. "He was never one to be open with many people when he was young. I only remember a handful of people he would call friends."

"He doesn't deal well with change, " Cate said. "And he's very slow to trust. That's not necessarily a bad thing."

"But he trusted you right away, " Lisa stated.

"That's because she doesn't judge or try to change him, " Thirteen said.

"But he _is_ changing, " Cuddy said, "Am I wrong?" she looked to Blythe for concurrence.

"He changed after his infarction, " his mother said. "He became more withdrawn and more irritable. He's more like he used to be. And that is a good thing." She looked warmly at Cate. "I believe it is all because of you."

"I really can't take credit for that, " Cate denied. "You have to be ready to change, someone else can't make you different."

"Maybe he's ready, " Thirteen said. "That Amber thing was really hard on him."

"He was out of control, " Cuddy said. "He's lucky he didn't kill himself when all was said and done."

"Maybe it made him realize what he was missing in his life, " Blythe surmised. "Maybe the experience told him something that prompted the willingness to change."

"Tragedy has powerful influences in the psyche, " Cate offered. It seemed weird to her that they were discussing him like this when he was only ten feet away. But they were so engrossed in their football game that she knew none of them could hear anything the women were saying. A loud cheered erupted from the sofa and high fives were being exchanged. Wilson took out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to House who smirked triumphantly. He looked over his shoulder in her direction and waggled his eyebrows at her flirtatiously and then sat down.

"He is definitely different, " Cuddy said.

"He is happy," Blythe said with tears shimmering in her eyes. "Oh dear…" she sniffled. "Would anyone like some more pie?" Cate smiled

"It's really so nice that you were able to come and spend Thanksgiving with House and Cate, " Cuddy said to Blythe accepting another small sliver of apple pie.

"I've missed him so, since John passed, " Blythe admitted with a touch of sadness. The older woman smiled wistfully fresh tears brimming and then pushed it aside with a brightness that rendered it all but forgotten. "I think I've decided to move up here to be closer to Gregory."

Cate paused with her coffee cup half way to her lips. "You want to move up here?"

"You what?" House said loudly standing half way between the couch and the table.

To be continued…


	62. Chapter 62: Thanksgiving Night

Sessions 62: Thanksgiving Night

"Mom! You can't just pick up and move up here!" House leaned on his cane and stared at his mother incredulously. _What the Hell was she thinking?_

She stared back at him with indignation. "Why not?"

He shifted his weight. _Why not? Why not… because he didn't want her too, that's why not._ "You have to pack your things, sell the house, the house you love… It takes time and… planning." He was searching for excuses; he knew. But…whatever.

"Gregory, I've moved entire households to Egypt and Japan and California on shorter notice, " She reminded him with a huff. "I think I can handle this."

Egypt, Japan, California… Texas, Ohio, Greece, Florida, South Carolina, Hawaii, Germany… he remembered them all. Every single time he had to change schools, say goodbye to friends he'd just made and prepare to meet new people he didn't know, again. He remembered having to leave little league teams, science fair projects unfinished, piano teachers he'd gotten used to, and neighborhoods that he had come to like so they could move yet again because his father had to be transferred on a moment's notice. He hated it; the packing, the stress his mother so desperately tried to hide because she always had to do it alone. He hated the leaving.

The only reprieve they had gotten was when his father had been sent to Vietnam. They had stayed put for eighteen months straight in California when he was nine and ten years old. It was a little slice of heaven because his dad was in-country the whole time, leaving just him and his mother. Greg had never been happier. And then his father had come back, worse than before. That was when the serious tension had started between them. He had lived an entire year and a half without his father's interference, rather with his mother's approval and encouragement. His father was gone for a long time and then came back and expected everything to be exactly like it was before he left. That Greg was supposed to be the perfect person John House expected him to be. Well he wasn't. He had his own ideas, his own likes, and his own way of doing things. And John House was angry and bitter and unforgiving _all_ of the time. It was then that Greg began to wish that he wasn't his father. It was then that he began to see the differences in them. It was then that jumpstarted the quest for knowledge, to prove that he was not a part of that man.

House looked around at the four pairs of eyes on him. The only two pairs he really cared about had conflicting emotions reflected in them. One set held him with a quiet sense of understanding and concern while the other uncharacteristically challenged him. He hadn't seen this side of his mother since those days of moving around from place to place when she had to be strong and resilient and be the one to take care of everything.

"When did you decide that this was something you wanted to do?" he asked her pointedly.

Cuddy and Thirteen rose from the table and discreetly left him to discuss this private matter with his mother and Cate. He came over to sit in the chair that Thirteen had vacated and watched his mother intently.

"I've missed you all these years, Gregory " she told him in a voice full of regret. "I've always wanted to be close to you but you never wanted to be near your father."

He set his jaw firmly. She knew why he couldn't stand his father. She knew why he hated him so much. And she knew that he wasn't his son which made it all the more unacceptable to him. "Stop calling him my father."

"Greg, " Cate said nervously, her eyes wide. He looked at his mother whose face remained resolute. She held out her hand to Cate halting her concern.

"It's ok, dear, I was wondering when he was going to get to it, " his mother said resignedly. "How long have you known?"

He closed his eyes and breathed. "Since I was twelve." Cate moved to get up from her chair to let them discuss this in private but he reached out his hand and clasped her wrist. "Sit down." She didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow at him, not in offense but more inquiring of his certainty. He softened his tone, "I need you to stay." She settled back into the chair and covered his hand with hers in quiet reassurance.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, " his mother said in a voice filled with remorse. "I never intended for anyone to find out."

"Obviously," he said trying to leave the anger out of his voice but unsure if he was successful or not. He saw her wince a little and he immediately regretted his tone. This probably was not easy for her. He wasn't sure if he cared about that, however. She, who could detect every lie, had lied the worst.

"I never wanted to hurt you or your father," she said and then shook her head at his reaction when she used that false title again. "He was still your father, Greg. He raised you and loved you like a son."

"He never loved me, " he said in a small voice with a pain that he didn't expect to bubble to the surface. Cate squeezed his fingers and he breathed a sigh.

"He did love you, he just didn't know how to express it to you, " she told him. "He did the best he could and that's all he knew how to do."

He stared at her with his jaw clamped shut and ran his hand over the scruff. He leaned on his elbow with his mouth pressed closed against the knuckles of his fingers in contemplation. He didn't know what to say. There were so many things flying around his head and none of them seemed to make sense to him right now. He was angry at her. He blamed her for his life being a lie, but everyone lies, even his mother, so how could he blame her if he was to hold true to his philosophy? Cate had said that he wasn't finished with this. She had been right. There were so many unanswered questions that he wasn't sure he had to courage to ask right now. He wasn't sure he really wanted the answers to those difficult questions.

He shook his head. "Why do you want to move here?"

"I don't want to live in the memory of that house anymore. I want to be near you, to be with you, I want to enjoy the last years of my life knowing that you are happy, is that too much for a mother to ask?" His mother regarded him with her soulful eyes and he recalled the thing she had said to him last night. She wanted to be near him because she wanted him to raise a family… but he couldn't promise her that. He couldn't give her what she wanted. All he could give her was _this_, what he had right now.

He rubbed his hand over his eyes. "So what's the plan?" he said with a sigh. He could see the relief flood her face and the brightness return to her eyes. He glanced at Cate who smiled warmly back at him. He could never lie to his mother or deny her anything so it was better to just avoid the entire topic altogether.

"If you don't mind, I like to stay until I find a condo and then I send for my things in Virginia because if I don't want to go back to that house I know for sure you'll never set foot in it," she told him with a wry smile.

"We'll call a broker tomorrow, " he replied quickly. He couldn't have her here any longer than the original 'I'm only here for the holiday' visit.

She laughed her musical laugh and leveled her eyes at him knowingly. "I won't be here for ever, sweetheart. I know how much you need your own space… and privacy."

He lowered his eyes to the table unable to meet her gaze. Even in the midst of an adult conversation she still made him feel like a twelve year old, or at least in this case a randy sixteen year old. _Wasn't old construction supposed to have thick walls?_

She reached across the table and placed her hands on both of theirs. "If I can move a house to Hawaii in five days in the days of a gas crisis, I can do this in half the time."

He frowned. "Promises, promises…"

Cate laughed. "You can stay as long as you want as far as I'm concerned."

He slid his eyes to her lowering his eyebrow and shaking his head. "Uh, no, she's got two weeks maximum and then she's out on her ass."

His mother rose from the table and kissed Cate on the top of her head hugging her from above. Cate smiled and rested her hands on his mother's arms returning the embrace. He smiled despite his attempt at being begrudgingly accepting about this because it apparently mattered a lot to him that his mother loved and accepted Cate. She had never taken to Stacey with even half the approval the way she had to Cate… He was insanely glad that was not the case with her. His mother came to him next and hugged him tightly, when she pulled away she held his face in her hands like she used to when he was a boy. "When I am settled, I will explain everything to you. I promise." He nodded and let her hug him once more before she walked into the kitchen announcing that she was putting on more coffee and that there was still pie for everyone to eat.

He let out a bemused laugh through his nose and shook his head.

"Well, that little impromptu conversation went better than I thought, " Cate said to him.

He frowned his lips together and tilted his head to the side. "Yeah… me too."

She slid her hands forward to grab his arm with a devilish little twinkle in her eyes. "Be careful, you might be growing up Peter Pan."

"Bite your tongue, _Wendy_, or I'll feed you to the crocodile…" He leaned back in his chair and cupped his hands around his mouth, "Let's get that bottle of scotch over here and get this poker game started. I have some serious green I need to steal from you sorry losers."

Cate stood up and laced her hands around his neck before she kissed him. "I'll always keep the window open for you, _Peter_." He laughed back at her and smacked her fine ass accenting her point that she liked him not all grown-up and serious. She tossed a wink at him as she joined the other women in font of the TV for more girly conversation.

Wilson carried over the poker chips, cards and cigars. House nodded at him for doing the honors. Don brought the scotch and Foreman brought the glasses in his big hands. House clapped his hands together and rubbed them itching to play some serious cards for some serious money.

"Hundred dollar buy in. $2.00 ante every round, " House announced grabbing the cards and shuffling them.

"_House_ rules, " Foremen asked with a smirk.

"Come on, you know we never play by anything but my rules, " House said as he handing him the cards to cut. He took out his money from his jeans pocket and divvied out his chips as Wilson and Don did the same.

"It seems my whole life is run by _your_ rules, " Foreman griped as he collected his chips making House smile.

"It's not my fault you became mini-me, " he said lighting his cigar. He inhaled deeply enjoying the heady, spicy flavor blended with cocoa and black cherry on his tongue. He smelled the length of the cigar and nodded. _These babies were a good pick-up_.

"Still doesn't mean I _don't_ hate you, " Foreman said lighting his own cigar.

"_You love me, you want to be me, you can't get away from me_, " he sang to him, taunting him. Wilson laughed and Don narrowed his eyes at him.

"I assume you annoy the shit out of people to distract them, is that your game plan?" Cate's dad asked as he organized his chips.

"Don, would you expect any less, " House asked with a smirk.

The old man nodded and held his glass up in toast. "Bring it on, son."

"Careful what you wish for, " Wilson said. "You may wind up with a dissertation on the relative size of primate testicles to the fidelity practices of human females."

Don made a curious face and accepted the cards as House dealt them.

"Five card stud, gentleman, " House announced and dealt around the table. They all examined their cards. He dealt the face up cards. Wilson had a 4 of clubs, Don a Queen of diamonds, Foreman a 4 of diamonds and he had a 9 of spades. Foreman with the lowest card anted up a two bucks to bring in.

"Call," House said putting up two dollar chips.

"Fold, " Wilson flipped his face up card and pushed them toward center.

"Already? Wuss… " House rolled his eyes and looked at Don.

"Raise, " he put in three chips.

"Interesting, " House replied receiving a tilt of the head from Don.

"Fold, " Foreman decided tossing his cards in. "What? No comment?"

"Call." He stacked two more chips to match Don's bet. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought we already knew you were a wuss and didn't have to say it."

Don snorted a laugh. "You put up with this shit?"

Foreman shrugged. "I wouldn't feel whole if he didn't berate me every damn day."

House smirked and dealt the next round face up. Don received a Jack of clubs and he, a Queen of hearts. "Aww, the Queen of my heart… Babe, you're bringing me luck…" he called over to Cate. Wilson rolled his eyes.

She waved at him from the sofa distractedly. "Good luck sweetie…"

"She doesn't care, " Foreman told him. Wilson chuckled.

"Check, " Don said, seriously into the game and ignoring the antics House was throwing around.

House checked, studying Don's reaction. This guy was a tough nut, but then again he suspected as much. He wondered how far he could push before he cracked. He dealt another face-up card to Don, 3 of hearts. He received a Queen of spades. Nice he had a pair of Queens showing. He bet $5. Don called without a flinch. _Interesting_.

He dealt the next card. An Ace of diamonds and a 4 of hearts. He bet another $5 and Don raised him $10.

"Ooo, " Wilson blew through his teeth. "Papa's got a brand new bag."

Foremen grimaced and nodded. House put in another $5 to see his bet.

Don flipped his hole card. An Ace of spades. _Fuck_. Pair of Aces beat a pair of Queens. His hole card was a crappy 5 of diamonds. House folded. And Don scooped up the pot of $37.

"Nice play, " House said with a smile. He pulled a drag on his cigar and passed the deck to Wilson. This was going to be fun.

They played for two hours, alternately winning and losing, drinking and smoking, making fun of Wilson and Foreman. House annoying everyone yet, still not getting to Don. Wilson was up $25. Foreman was down $35. Don had won the last hand of Texas Hold 'Em with $50. And House was breaking even. They were in the middle of the last round before packing it in for the night. The girls were practically falling asleep on the couch and had begged for them to stop forty-five minutes ago but they had one last score to settle.

House was dealer and they were in a hot round of Texas Hold 'Em again. A 5 of hearts, 6 of spades, and Ace of clubs were down on the flop. Wilson had folded earning another more caustic ribbing from House for being a whimp. The turn brought up a Jack of clubs. Flexing his betting muscles, Foreman put out $5. House called stacking up his $5 wager. He had an Ace in the hole giving him a pair. There was no way he'd lose this unless someone else was bitten by the luck fairy. Don sipped his drink and regarded both of them for a bit. He looked calm and casual and House had not been able to determine his tell at all this whole night. This frustrated him to no end but no one knew that. And no one knew he had aces. So it made up for that.

"You gonna call or are you packing it in?" House urged through a puff of smoke from his cigar.

Don pointed his cigar at him and cocked an eyebrow. "You are impatient."

House shook his head. "Me? No, I am very patient man." Foreman and Wilson choked back laughs.

Don shook his head back in disagreement. "No way. You'd never make it sitting in a car on a stake out for twelve hours straight just… _waiting_."

House tapped the end of his cherry into the ashtray. "I wouldn't make it for twelve hours because of my bum leg, but willpower-wise, that's a different story."

"Pluh-leez, " Cuddy scoffed tiredly from the couch, "You could sit twelve hours straight on your ass if it meant not having to do clinic duty."

"Dad, call or get off the pot, " Cate griped. "Let's get this done."

"Catie girl, you can't rush a hand of poker, " Don said as he placed his chips neatly in front of him.

Thirteen came over and stood close to Foreman rubbing his shoulders with her slim hands. House watched the interaction between the two doctors. He smiled to himself and put down the river card. A 9 of diamonds. Didn't help him, but he still had the pair of aces. He wondered what the other two were holding.

"You're bet, " he said to Don.

Don grinned and put out his chips. "$10 dollars."

It was Foreman's turn. He looked between both Don and House and grabbed ten dollars in chips. "I see your bet and , " he grabbed ten more, " I raise you."

Wilson laughed. "You better have a damn good hand, man, " he said shaking his head.

House contemplated folding. Either he _did_ have a good hand or he was bluffing. Foreman wasn't a bluffer, normally. So… "Call." He tossed in his $20.00. "Don?"

"House?" Don echoed his tone. House grunted. He was discovering that Don liked to taunt him, as well. Surely, he'd be more than happy to return the favor.

"You gonna take a year and a day to decide whether or not you're gonna call," he said and point his thumb over his shoulder, "'cuz, maybe Cate and I could take a cruise to Aruba while we're waiting. I hear they have nude beaches over there…"

Foreman laughed and shook his head while Wilson grimaced sliding a careful glance at Cate's father. Don narrowed his eyes at House. They held each other's stares, icy cold against coal black. Don glared at him and House smirked which made Don's glare fiercer.

"House, stop trying to piss off my dad, " Cate retorted as she came over to stand behind him. Cuddy had apparently followed, sliding in to sit on Wilson's lap.

"Meeeee?" He mocked with big innocent eyes. "I was just saying we should take a vacation…" Cate rolled her sleepy eyes and rested her hands on his shoulders giving him a firm squeeze. She was tired and not in the mood.

"Maybe you should make it a honeymoon, " Don tossed at him.

Wilson and Foreman gasped, choking on their shock and laughter at the burn thrown out by her dad.

His mother sat down at one of the empty chair with a glass of water. "Oh, that would be so nice, a little wedding on the beach, just intimate friends…" Cuddy and Thirteen's eyes got wide looking like they were afraid House might actually lunge across the table and kill her old man.

House clamped his jaw shut.

"See what you started, " Cate said.

"You gonna call, or what?" House growled.

Don laughed, happy that he'd gotten under House's skin. "I think I'm gonna call."

"Finally, " Foreman complained. "Let's go, show 'em."

House flipped his cards. "Pair of Aces."

Don turned his cards over with a smile. "Sixes and Nines high."

Damn it. House let out a heavy sigh. _Fuckin' A_… he lost. But, Foreman still had to show his hand.

"Read them and weep, " he said excitedly turning over his cards. "Seven… and….wait for it… oh no, what's he have…can't be, can it… An EIGHT! Take that suckers… 5, 6, 7, 8 AND 9! Hot damn!" The whole table erupted into a chorus of cheers and disbelief.

"Get the Fuck out of here!" House groaned.

Don shook his head. "Nice job, son."

Foreman reached over the table and pulled the pot over to him. "$95.00, baby…" Thirteen clapped her hands and placed a congratulatory kiss on his cheek.

"All right, that's a wrap, " House said. "Homie just stole ninety-five bucks from us and Betty Crocker and Aunt Jemima are Dead Men walking over here."

Everyone agreed that it was late and they were tired. They cleaned up the card game dividing the winnings out from the pot of money. Retrieving coats and jackets everyone prepared to go.

Cuddy stood in front of him and smiled holding her arms out. "Come on House, it's Thanksgiving."

"I'll only hug you if you let me grab our ass, " he told her.

"Your hands touch her ass and I'll bludgeon you with your cane, " Wilson told him slipping on his jacket.

"Ooo, Jimmy, getting kinky in our old age, " he quipped and then held out his arms to quick hug Cuddy goodbye.

"We had a wonderful time. I'm so happy to see you like this, " she whispered to him.

"Yeah, yeah, " he said backing out of her embrace. She stepped over and hugged Cate. Wilson knew better than touch him so he waited to kiss Cate goodbye and then tossed a goodbye over his shoulder as he escorted Cuddy out. "Brunch on Sunday." House rolled his eyes an nodded his head. Sunday brunch was quickly becoming a habit he was going to have to break and fast.

Foreman and Thirteen had their coats and were ready to go. She came over to Cate and squeezed her tightly, whispering something to her that the two women giggled privately over. He made a curious face at Foreman who rolled his eyes. He, too, knew better to touch him hugging Cate instead. Thirteen didn't seem to pick up on the goodbye protocol and embraced him tightly.

"Thank you for telling me Cate wanted me to come, " she said to him quietly with a little smile.

"Can I grab _your_ ass, " he asked earning a disgruntled look from Foreman.

"If you touch my ass I'll beat you with your cane myself, " Thirteen told him with a laugh.

Cate slid him a look. "Can you stop trying to grope all of our friends? You can touch my ass all you want as soon as everyone leaves."

"Spoil sport, " he complained and then pulled her into a hug grabbing her ass as Fourteen walked out the door. She laughed and swatted at his arms.

"I wasn't kidding about the honeymoon part, " Don said coming over to them.

"Dad, " Cate warned hugging him tightly to her. "Let it go."

"For now, " he promised with a smile and let go of his daughter. He held out his hand and House accepted it firmly returning his handshake. He briefly thought maybe it wasn't such a smart idea to taunt him too much. The guy had hands the size of a gorilla. "You are a pain in the ass but a worthy poker player. We'll do that again sometime."

"Will do, " he agreed.

"Don, it was an absolute pleasure to meet you, " his mother said graciously as she swept him into a close embrace.

"The pleasure was all mine, " he said pulling back but clasping her hands in his mitts. "It is few and far between I get to meet a beautiful woman, who can cook and enjoys my stories."

House watched his mother blush. He couldn't believe she was buying into such a line of crap. Cate's dad was macking on his mother! And she was enjoying it!

"You can talk to me any time, " she practically cooed.

"Ok, Dad, " Cate interrupted. "It's late and you have quite a drive."

"Careful on the road, " his mother bid as she saw him out the door. Once he was gone and the door was shut, House collapsed onto the sofa. His mother said her goodnights and retired to her room.

"No, no, we're going to bed too," Cate said pulling on his hands. "I'm pooped."

All of a sudden he yawned and realized just how exhausted he was from the long day. "Yeah, me too." She tugged him off the sofa and they put out the fire and closed all of the lights. Following her down the hall to bed, Houses reflected on the last two days. They had had a rip-roaring fight, he'd tried to break up with her, wound up buying new truck and then came home to finally make love to her. Three times. He had more people in his home than he'd ever had, he'd eaten more food than he had in the last five years put together, found out his mother was moving here and told her he knew about her indiscretion of his birth. Wow, it had been a one hell of a last two days. No wonder he was as exhausted as Cate was.

He closed the bedroom door and she stripped off her clothes. She was so incredibly beautiful and he felt that familiar lucky feeling to be the one she had chosen to be with. She slipped into her jammies and he did the same. They both turned down the blankets at the same time before getting into their soft bed like they had been in the ritual forever. Smiling, she climbed in and waited for him to join her. He turned out the light and pulled her close to him, spooning with her agsint the coolness of the downy pillows.

"Thank you for today, " she said tucking his hand in her arms.

He kissed her neck. "I had fun."

"Good, " she said in almost a whisper. She drifted off to sleep in his arms.

He kissed her again and closed his eyes. Today was a good day.


	63. Chapter 63 Man Fun

Sessions 63: Man Fun

"My ass cheeks are cramping! How much longer?" House asked impatiently into the air with a huff.

"For the fiftieth time, stop moving and you'll be out that much sooner, " Wilson said to him through the small loud speaker over head.

"I feel like a penis in a big mechanical vagina, only I don't get a happy ending, " he complained. This had to be the longest forty-five minutes of his life. He looked around the tiny cylindrical compartment, yet again. "Is this what it feels like to be inside Cuddy's vagina?"

"Yes. It's exactly like that."

House laughed. "You just lay there and she does all the work? Like the Borg Queen?"

"Yeah, and then she returns me back to the stasis chamber until next time, " Wilson deadpanned. House didn't have to even see his friend's face to know he was rolling his eyes at him. He grinned. Wilson was so easy.

"Are two you seriously trying to make little Wuddy babies, " House asked with unchecked contempt at the very concept that Wilson was ready to reproduce _and_ _with Cuddy, no less_. That had to be some kind of law against nature.

"Yes, House we are making a concerted effort to have a child much younger _and_ cuter than you, " Wilson told him.

"You know how much trouble I have sharing my toys and that I hate to compete for Mommy and Daddy's attention, " House pouted. He honestly didn't want to have to share Wilson with Cuddy, let alone a baby.

"Your mother and I will always love you, " Wilson said. House rolled his own eyes and thought about how this sharing thing closely resembled the cause of the custody agreement he had struck up with Amber over quality time with Wilson in the months before she died. He didn't want to have to negotiate a deal with Cuddy when it came to spending time with his best friend. Negotiations with her were notoriously messy and he often lost. And everyone knew what a sore loser he was.

"Isn't this all a little too fast, " House said staring up at the smiley face sticker in the MRI machine. Like that damn little sticker was going to make you feel better about having to lay still like a cadaver for the better part of an hour. His balls were starting to stick to his leg and he seriously needed a package readjustment. But noooo….he couldn't move. Why did he have to be so intent on flashing his ass at Wilson out the back of his hospital gown as he walked into the MRI room? _Dumb move for the few seconds of fun that provided._ He really could have used the cradling comfort of his boxer briefs at this particular juncture in time. A little cloth separation would have done wonders. Besides it was staring to get a little chilly in there.

"We've known each other and been friends for fifteen years. I think that's long enough to know a person before you decide to have kids with them, " Wilson surmised.

"Yeah but you've been a couple for about fifteen minutes of that time, " House argued. "You can't seriously say that your relationship is ready for that big of a step. You still don't know if she farts in her sleep."

"Yes, House the basis for all lasting relationships is tolerance of flatulence for both parties, " Wilson contested. His sarcasm was clear and unmistakable.

"You know what I mean, " he said wiggling his nose. Great, now, he felt like he was going to sneeze. Psychologically, he knew he really didn't have to, it was because he _couldn't_ that made him _want_ to. Damn his rebellious tendencies. And his balls sticking to his leg. This was his price for Vicodin having such a hold on him…

"Does Cate fart in her sleep, " Wilson inquired curiously.

House laughed. "Rose petals and rainbows."

"Rose petals and rainbows, I'm sure, " Wilson said with a chuckle. "So in your twisted definition of reality does that mean you guys are ready to take the next step?" When House didn't respond, Wilson continued, "Still having sex bareback?"

"Cate is on the pill, I told you that, " House stated. "You know that she had three miscarriages when she was doing in-vitro, right?" He asked bringing the conversation right back around to Cuddy and her uterus.

He heard Wilson sigh into the microphone. "Yeah, she told me."

"What will you do if she can't conceive, " he asked him seriously.

"We'll adopt, " he said. "We've talked extensively about it. We'll try for a while to get pregnant and if she can't or we miscarry then, we'll start the adoption process."

"What is this 'we' stuff? You say it like you're actually a part of it, " House said remembering the peculiar vision he had of Wilson sitting on Cuddy's eggs when he saw him sitting in Amber's egg chair the night he and Cate had their big fight. That was over three weeks ago now. Though he'd never admit it, the vision terrified him.

"It's my baby too House, " Wilson reminded him breaking him from his reverie.

"Only after she pops that puppy out. Until then you're just a sperm donor, " he countered a little too gruffly.

"You know that's not true, " Wilson said.

"You do realize that only a few weeks ago the two of us were sitting around like pansies talking about why it was a good thing to not have sex with our girlfriends and now you two are off planning a little tax deduction," House stated.

"I love her, " Wilson said simply, his voice echoing inside the chamber. House sighed. He had that sound in his voice. It was that sickly sweet, pathetic sound he got right before he'd asked his last two wives to marry him. The man was a sap and he fell so easily in love like he was buying laundry detergent on sale and stocking up for…Whoa, what the hell kind of analogy was that? House stopped his meandering thoughts and did a double take. What the fuck was he thinking? He was turning into a guy who new that laundry detergent actually went on sale? Was that a bad thing? _Yes, idiot!_ Of course it was a bad thing. Good God, he needed to get control of his life again. He needed to get back to the unbridled freedom of man things his did before…this… amalgamation of whatever it was that he was turning into. Wilson was rambling on about something to do with how wonderful Cuddy was and he had to stop himself from gagging so he wouldn't move and blur the image resolution.

"Let's go get drunk tonight, " he blurted out.

"What?"

"You heard me, let's go get shitfaced drunk, cruise the tittie bars, do man stuff, " he said. "Like we used to before the women took our manhood along with our penises and made us start thinking about romance and flowers and shit that we don't even care about like laundry detergent."

"Speak for yourself, " Wilson said with a snort.

"Oh please, the only reason you ever gave a shit about any of that stuff was to get laid, " House reminded him.

"I don't know, " Wilson hesitated.

"Come on, it's my birthday in a few days, I can't turn fifty without some dirty filthy pole dancing, " House pushed.

"Since when do you celebrate or even admit that it's your birthday?"

"Since I'm passing over the threshold into _Older than Dirt_ and haven't seen a bare breast in months that didn't belong to the woman I sleep with every night, " he said and then paused. "Although they are quite perfect…" Now if only he could get Cate to put on some black lace panties and dance around a pole in those $800 fuck-me pumps… That would be a rocking good time.

"Other than Lisa's, I haven't seen a breast that wasn't a flattened wrinkled cancer pancake…"

"Dude! I was enjoying the vision of my sexy voluptuous girlfriend giving me a lap dance and you had to go and ruin it with you _cancer boobs?_ What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Sorry, I know how you like to fantasize, " Wilson apologized snidely.

"So whad'ya say? _Leather and Lace_? You know it's your favorite?"

"That is true…" Wilson was this close to coming around. He could hear it in his voice that he wanted to go. They hadn't been there together since…before Amber.

"We're going." House made the decision for him. "Tell Cuddles that the sperm factory is going to restock for the night."

"What are you going to tell Cate," Wilson asked cautiously.

"That I'm going to celebrate my birthday with you at a strip club, " he said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, yeah that'll go over really well, " Wilson laughed loudly over the speaker.

House shrugged. "She won't care."

"Don't be too sure, " Wilson warned. "No matter how secure women are, they always care."

"Fine I'll leave the strip club part out, " he said. "Are we done yet?"

"Yes, that was the last scan, " Wilson said and punched the button to move the diagnostic bed out of the MRI machine.

House gingerly peeled his leg away from his nut sack and sat up letting the blood flow to his numb butt. Glad that torture was over, he hopped to the cold tile floor, hoping that Cuddy would finally get off his back and write the scrip for his Vicodin because he was almost out of the half refill she gave him for three extra hours of clinic duty. He wasn't sure what she was hoping to find. There would be no regeneration because there was no muscle for the nerves to re-connect to, so he had no idea why she continued to push the issue. It was false hope and that did no one but Cameron any good.

"Pick you up at 7:00?" House said.

"Hooters for dinner, " Wilson suggested coming into the scanning room.

House nodded. "Perfect."

"Although, neither one of us should be driving, " Wilson said with an air of gravity.

"We'll take a taxi, " House said with a nod. He wondered when Amber would stop hanging between them like the ghost of the tragic mistake that happened. He wondered if they would ever be able to not think about it in the spaces between the words that were never spoken. He knew Wilson felt it too but never said anything.

"Um, make sure you put your underwear on before we go out, " Wilson said sliding him a glance as he walked out of the room. House grinned and turned to get dressed.

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The loud pumping music could be heard out on the sidewalk as Wilson and House stepped out of the taxi that had taken them from dinner at _Hooters_ to the _Leather and Lace_ gentlemen's club. House was excited. He hadn't been to a strip club in a while. Well, since that night, but who was really keeping track? And he hadn't technically planned to go there that night, he just kind of stumbled in with a skull fracture and temporary memory loss. So it didn't really count. Tonight, that was a very different story. He told Cate he was spending some quality time with Wilson for his birthday and she was completely ok with it. There was no argument, no saying she understood but really meaning she didn't want him to go. He was pleasantly surprised, but then again he didn't really think that she would have made a big deal out of it. She didn't put restrictions on him like many other women had tried. Instead, she kissed him and told him to have a good time with a smile. It was genuine. Of course, he had taken Wilson's advice and didn't tell her they were going to a strip club, because even he figured he was pressing his luck with that. Why invite a problem when he didn't have to?

It was still relatively early in the night. A few business men with loosened ties dotted the bar where a buxom waitress served drinks in a bikini that probably should have fit a twelve year old. Some college kids hung out around the stage area attempting to draw the attention of the redhead hanging upside-down on the silver pole. He always wondered how they managed to do that without sliding down the pole like a fireman. Bit, damn it looked awesome on the breasts

Wilson led him to the bar where he flagged the large breasted bartender down. She came over flashing a smile.

"I'll have a cosmopolitan and…" Wilson said.

"What the hell?" House ground out. "Are you serious?"

"Nah, just messing with you, " he said laughing. "I'll have a beer and shot of whiskey."

"Make that two, " House said tossing a twenty on the bar. Wilson picked up the bill and handed it back to him.

"It's your birthday, my treat, " Wilson said.

"Cool, I should celebrate getting older more often, " he said stuffing the twenty back into his jeans pocket. He took out his Vicodin and popped one pill before putting that bottle back next to the twenty.

"You're really not taking as much Vicodin as you used to, " Wilson said with an air of amazement.

House shrugged. "I haven't needed it."

"The pain is subsiding?"

"No, just not as strong, " he admitted.

Wilson was about to say something but the waitress poured their shots and then hopped up onto the bar with a megaphone. "Hey, everyone," she announced over the battery powered speaker, "We have a birthday over here!"

House rolled his eyes and regretted saying that out loud. The small crowd hooted and hollered in support.

"You deserve the extra special birthday shot, big guy!"

Wilson glanced at House with a dubious grin on his face. He shrugged and gestured for him to just roll with it. Why the hell not, they were there and they were supposed to be having 'man fun'.

House brought his full attention to the bartender to see her place the shot glass between her extra large breasts. His eyes went wide in surprise and Wilson snorted in laughter. She pressed her fun bags together to cradle the glass and lean forward off the edge of the bar close to his face.

"Drink up birthday boy, " she cheered.

The place began to chant. "Drink! Drink! Drink!"

House closed his eyes and shook his head. This was vaguely reminiscent of college when he used to be the one doing jell-o shots off the co-eds bare stomachs and other unmentionables. Well, this was about as real as man fun got! He smiled, laced his hands behind his back and leaned forward burying his face into her mountainous cleavage to take the shot glass into his open mouth between his teeth. His stubble scrapped against the soft mounds of her breast as emerged. He threw his head back chugging back the amber liquid into his throat. The drink warmed his esophagus on the way down as the frat boys rooted for him with pumping fists and shouts. He contemplated putting the shot glass back where he found it but decided not to and placed in on the bar beside her instead.

Wilson clapped him on the back with a grin that went from ear to ear. "Now that was a birthday shot." He raised his glass. "Here's to fifty."

House chuckled and chased his shot with a gulp of beer. This night was looking pretty good so far.

They decided they would take a seat in one of the booths off to the side where they could have waitress service and lap dances which Wilson promptly insisted that he was buying for House. Who was he to complain, it wasn't his money and he was the birthday boy.

The light was much darker over here to provide a semblance of privacy with a glow of turquoise from the neon string underneath a velvet decorated panel. There was a low table in front of the curved, leather covered booth. House sat back and rested his arms along the back of the sofa stretching out to relax. Wilson sat off to the side of him keeping proper distance according to man date protocol. Close enough to talk over the din of the music but far enough to not appear like they were 'together'.

"I think I had a fantasy about Cuddy in a school girl uniform here once, " House said looking off to the stage where a new girl in a leopard outfit was dancing.

"I had a wet dream about Cate in a milk maiden's outfit the other night, " Wilson said.

House whipped his head in Wilson's direction and narrowed his eyes at him. "I didn't say I blew my load, I just said I had a fantasy!"

"Oh, sorry, " Wilson apologized insincerely.

"Besides it was before Cate, when I was horny and alone, " he added not tempering his rising ire.

"Yet, you still felt the need to mention it to me, " Wilson retorted.

House stared at him for along moment. "You had a wet dream about Cate, seriously?"

"Umm, no." He tipped his beer at him in touché. "Stop fantasizing about Lisa."

House rolled his eyes and pulled a long sip on his beer. _Asshole_… He tried to shrug off the jealously that had permeated his body and focus his attention on Cheetah girl who was now removing her gloves. It wasn't quite going away but her hypnotic arm movements were making it easier to forget. They sat for a while watching, drank the rest of there beers and ordered another round.

A beautiful blonde with the proportions of a playboy bunny came around by their booth. She had on a black skirt so short, House could see the string of her thong ride up the crack of her ass. Her leather bra reigned in her D cups with the force of a bridle on a thoroughbred. She wore spiked black boots that came up to her knees with a diamond studded dog collar around her neck. She was a vixen in tight black leather and no doubt searing hot to the touch, to be sure. There was part of him that would have handed her a fifty the second she sauntered over, but something stopped him. He tipped his head to the side and watched her. Her thick black eyelashes waved slowly at him as she blinked, staring back at him, and her glossy red lips forming into a playful pout. She winked at him and smiled as he openly stared at her. Wilson took this extended flirtation as an indication that he wanted a lap dance from her and handed her the fifty for him. She gladly took the bill, stuffing it into the center of her bra for safekeeping and began her seductive dance.

She slowly approached him with deliberation drawing out the moment as she held his gaze. She was beautiful and younger than he expected as he saw her face full on. She couldn't have been much older than twenty he guessed as she swung her booted foot over his thigh. He knew he couldn't touch her so he nodded his head to the other thigh glancing at his cane next to him so she got the point. It would have been easier to just tell her not to sit on that leg, but he didn't like to talk to them. Conversation ruined the illusion. She licked her lips seductively and spun around on her heel to swing her leg over his other thigh pushing her ripe full ass against his chest. He watched her undulate gradually downward in time to the music to rest her bottom again the fly of his pants. He could smell her strong perfume and it burned his nose as she gyrated against him. The music thumped in his brain and he closed his eyes listening and feeling. She worked her magic like a pro, bumping and grinding. She jiggled and swayed rubbing herself all over him in an effort to get him off without him even laying a hand on her.

House lost interest about half way through the song. He was bored. She was doing nothing for him.

"Get off."

She stopped immediately looking at him like she didn't understand. "Did I do somezing vrong?" Her Russian accent adding to her whole Boris and Natasha aura, but turned him off even more. He sighed, she was probably illegal and all of sixteen.

"No." He shook his head.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, just had enough, " he said handing her a ten. "Now go away." She shrugged, stowing her ten with the fifty and meandered over to the frat boys figuring she score better with them.

"What the hell was that all about?" Wilson demanded.

"Wasn't feeling it, " was all he said.

Wilson stared at him incredulously. "I was feeling it and she wasn't even on me? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, " he replied guzzling the rest of his beer. He stood awkwardly and picked up his coat. "I've had enough. Let's get out of here and go bowl a couple of frames before midnight."

Wilson shook his head and grabbed his own coat before downing the rest of his beer. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

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House unlocked the door to the apartment after midnight. Placing his keys in the bowl on the credenza, he hung his coat on the rack. He was tired and buzzed. The taxi thing had been a good idea because Wilson had had two more beers after he had waved the white flag an hour earlier. Neither of them had the faculties to drive safely.

He trudged his way to the bedroom where Cate slept softly in the moonlight. He watched her sleeping form for a while, her shoulders rising and falling gently as she breathed. His eyes skimmed over the delicate sweep of her shoulder to the curve of her hip under the thick down comforter. He didn't even have to really see it to know the slope of her curves. Feeling content, he stripped off his pants and placed his Vicodin on the nightstand before tossing the jeans over the footboard. He unbuttoned his over shirt and it soon joined his pants. Trying not to groan as he folded his body into bed, he settled against the coolness of the sheets with an inaudible sigh. Instinctively, Cate felt his presence and rolled over to curl up along side of him. She purred as she nestled her head against his chest bringing with her a warmth and the soft, subtle scent of her hair.

"I'm glad your home, " she said sleepily.

He kissed the top of her head squeezing her tightly to him as he inhaled her into him.

"You smell like cheap stripper perfume, " she said. He could feel her cheek lift into a smile against his chest.

He let out a wry chuckle. He should have known he couldn't fool her. She raised her head and looked up at him with her big dark eyes in the dim light of room. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, " he said albeit hesitantly. He ran his hand down the smoothness of her hair curling his fingers around the back of her neck. He pulled her to his lips in a searing kiss. She responded instantly deepening the motion with her tongue against his meeting him stroke for stroke.

He sighed audibly into her mouth reveling in the feel of her. He lips on his skin as her mouth roamed, her breasts against his chest as she rose to meet him, her legs as she straddled him taking him into deep slick folds of her womanhood. She was all the woman he needed as she rocked her sweet hips back and forth bringing him quickly to the peak and pushing him over the precipice into a mind blowing orgasm. She followed soon after falling against his chest breathing heavily. He stoked her hair away from the dewiness of her brow and tipped her chin up to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Happy birthday."

"It's a couple days away, " he corrected her with a grin.

She smiled impishly at him. "Just think of the sex you'll get on your actual birthday."

"Oh, I can't wait, " he said with an excited waggle of the eyebrows. "I can't wait."

_A/N: I've missed these guys terribly! They left me and I was lost. I think I had doubts about where I wanted to go but I'm going to trust my instincts and flow with it. They're writing their own story and when I over-analyze it, it gets stuck. So I'm back, they're back…keep your fingers crossed! Enjoy!_


	64. Chapter 64: Letters from Home

Sessions 64: Letters from Home

Three weeks after Thanksgiving, House's mother had found a condo about ten minutes from the apartment. She had moved out a few days ago after she had hired a moving company to pack up her entire house in Virginia and ship her things to New Jersey. His Aunt Sara came down to help his mother get settled in and had been staying with her for the past two days. House was glad his aunt was there because then he didn't have to take the time to help his mother sort through boxes of dishes, books, and various odds and ends that he could care less about and had nothing to do with in the first place. Cate, on the other hand, had spent the last two nights after work over at the condo lending her assistance to his mother and getting to know his aunt. She said the two women reminded her of her own mother and her aunt with their sisterly affection and equally ubiquitous rivalry. They bickered about where to put the china and the linen, which curtains would look good where and which knick knacks to put on the étagère. Thank God Cate had the patience for it because he couldn't stand the indecision over such mundane things.

Cate had gone over tonight to help his mom take care of some last minute shopping and say goodbye to Aunt Sara because she was returning to Connecticut in the morning to prepare for the holidays. On his own for dinner, House went out to eat with Kutner of all people. The young doctor insisted that he buy him dinner for his birthday because Wilson had let it slip out during a particularly dull differential that it was this Sunday. House was ready to turn him flat down but Kutner threatened to decorate the office with balloons and streamers and serve cake in the doctors' lounge if he didn't go quietly and pretend to have a good time. He tried threatening to fire him but the young doctor would have nothing of the sort, promising that he wouldn't even try to do the secret Santa thing this year as bonus incentive. Never being one to really pass up a free meal, House relented and went to Sneaky Pete's with him for Tex-Mex. A few Coronas and a ton of chips and salsa and House was having a tolerable time.

"So why do you hate your birthday so much?" Kutner asked him.

House shrugged and sipped on is beer. "There's nothing significant about a birthday after the initial one. It's just another day every one after that."

Kutner shook his head. "Nah, birthdays are milestones. They mark the passing of another year that we've survived on the planet. 37,000,000 heartbeats, 10,000 breaths, 915 quarts of sweat."

House raised an eyebrow at him. He was always a plethora of useless information. It was that one thing he secretly liked that about him. He was doofy but interesting. And he wasn't afraid to take risks. He secretly liked that too. "3,150,000 seconds spent thinking about sex," he added.

"5110 farts."

House chuckled. "In Wilson's case I think the number's upwards of about 7000, " House said. He closed his one eye and looked to the ceiling thinking. "How about 120 new stomach linings?"

"Good one, " Kutner said wide-eyed and tipped his beer at him. And then he screwed up his face searching for another factoid. "29,000 hairs."

House had to find another one. He couldn't let the kid one-up him. "5,600,000 blinks."

Kutner laughed. "Ok, you win. I'm out."

House smirked. He sipped on his beer and looked around. He hadn't been to this particular bar in a while. It hadn't really changed much since he'd been there last. The bar was dark, but the dining area was lit with yellowish lights and decorated with brightly colored Mexican items. Absently he told himself that he had to remember to bring Cate here because she would like it. He looked over his shoulder and harrumphed. There were peanut shells on the floor, a terrible hazard for someone with a peanut allergy, but it'd be their own damn fault if they couldn't read the huge sign outside that said WARNING: PEOPLE WITH SEVERE PEANUT ALLERGIES DO NOT ENTER. Some kind of honky tonk music played from the jukebox and he decided that he was going to go mix it up a bit. He slid out of the booth and leaned on his cane as he limed over to the neon lit Wurlitzer. He fed the machine a five dollar bill and selected his ten songs. He picked a mixture from Lynard Skynard, Cream, Muddy Waters, BB King and Stevie Ray Vaughn. He was in the mood for some good old fashioned blues.

On his way back to the table, he signaled for another round of beers and then sat down. _Strange Brew_ came on and Kutner smiled. "Dude, in high school, we used to sit downstairs in my friend's basement and sweat this song while we smoked enormous amounts of pot and jammed on our guitars."

"_Dude_, I used to do that in high school, " House said. "You were in high school only like five years ago." It was probably a little closer to ten, but he was going more for effect than accuracy.

Kutner laughed. "Nah, seriously. We were all in a band. I used to play guitar."

"Really?" House was a little skeptical if not impressed. "You've never said anything about it."

Kutner shrugged. "I figured you'd think I was trying to suck up."

"You're always trying to suck up. At least that would have been interesting."

"We should play sometime, " Kutner suggested.

House made a face. "I don't know if I'd go that far."

"Whatever, if you have some free time let me know, I still have my Gibson Les Paul Classic, 1990's remake of course."

House nodded. "Two years ago I bought a vintage 1967 Gibson Les Paul Custom."

Kutner's eyes gleamed in appreciation. "That's a sweet guitar."

House bobbed his head. "She is."

The waitress came over with their next round of beers followed by a server with their tray of food. House had three tacos, beans and rice and Kutner ordered a burrito that came out the size of a baby watermelon.

"I think you can feed all of Mexico City on the burrito, " House joked pointing at the giant food wrap with his fork.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll eat it all, " Kutner boasted. "I didn't have lunch 'cuz I was busy being some guy named Dr. House, down in the clinic today."

"You drew the small coffee stirrer, " House defended crunching into his first taco. "It could have just as easily been anyone else." He picked up the errant stands of lettuce and cheese and stuffed them back into his mouth.

Kutner shrugged. "I think Fourteen stacks the stirrers against me." House didn't miss the little twinge of jealousy that came out in his tone as he mentioned the Thirteen/Foreman moniker. Since he'd hired the new team he had noticed the school boy crush Kutner had on Thirteen. It amused him to watch the mini-drama unfold as he tried to impress her with his trivia knowledge during differentials.

"Stop whining about it. Get savvy. Next time _you_ get the stirrers, stack your own odds."

Kutner smirked wryly and tipped his head. "I could but then it wouldn't be fair."

"You think any of its fair? I'm making you do my job because it's not fair that I have to do clinic duty. It sucks. Life isn't fair. The only thing that _is_ fair in life is that sometimes you get to make up the rules to suit your own agenda." He sipped his beer. "And being the boss helps." He watched the younger doctor dig into his burrito. He heard what he was saying but his affection for the pretty doctor clouded his judgment. "You know she only sees you as an annoying little brother type, right?"

Kutner nodded. "I know, it doesn't mean I still don't like her."

"Yeah, so she's hot and does hot things sexually, like other girls, for instance, but she's not worth pining for, " House grumbled.

"I'm not pining, " Kutner objected. "I think she's pretty. And fun to hang out with."

"You're pining, " House repeated. "You've go that sappy puppy dog look that Wilson always has."

"Slow down champ, you've got it too, " Kutner protested.

House narrowed his eyes at him. He _did_ _not_ have that pathetic, love-struck puppy dog look. "No I don't."

Kutner laughed. "Sure you do. You should hear your voice when she calls. It goes up an octave."

House swallowed his taco. "No it doesn't."

Kutner shoveled a forkful of dripping burrito into his mouth. "Whatever you say."

"You're damn right it's whatever I say," House grumbled. He munched on the rest of his second taco and sipped some beer. He contemplated his companion for a bit wondering what made this kid with an obvious streak for statistics and useless information go into medicine. He was very similar to himself in the sense that he was intrigued by the puzzle and mystery of the cases they worked on. He thought a lot of what they saw in any given week was cool and interesting while the others were either baffled by it or overly emotional about it. He was totally willing to take a chance and when it came to the medicine he was strong enough to argue with him about it even if he was wrong. House respected that about him which was why he had let him stay on during the Survivor interview process.

"If you were so into music, why's you become a doctor, " House asked curiously.

"I could ask the same of you, " he said.

"I asked you first, " House replied.

Kutner frowned. "My real parents were killed in front of me when I was seven. Some one could have saved her if they could have cleared her breathing passages. But she died before anyone could get there to help." He looked at House with an odd sense of detachment that he was unaccustomed to from him. "I stood there and watched her drown in her own blood. I was terrified but at the same time I was amazed by what was happening to her body. I'll never forget that sound."

House pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew the exact sound he was talking about. It was the sound of someone gasping for air as their lungs gurgled and filled with fluid until the breath could no longer compete to acquire the space anymore. It was a horrific sound; a sound that no seven year old should ever hear or bare witness to. "How'd you wind up as a Kutner?"

"My adoptive parents had their own kids, my brother and sister, but the felt like they needed to do more, so they fostered and adopted me, " he explained matter-of-factly. House was intrigued by his nonchalance about the situation.

"Didn't it bother you knowing that these people weren't your real parents and that your siblings weren't related to you at all?"

Kutner shook his head. "My parents treated me like I was no different than their other children. Sure I looked different and changed my name, but I became a new person. I shed the life of the convenience store Indian and became the smart kid from the suburbs."

"Didn't you ever feel like it was all one big lie, " House pressed further.

"Of course, I always knew these people were not my blood relatives, but they are good people who raised me and love me. In their home, it didn't matter that I wasn't theirs. I'm their son in everything but blood. If it weren't for them I wouldn't be who I am today. I'd probably be working in my father's convenience store, dreaming about all the things I could have done but never would."

House listened to his words. If he waded through the sentiment, he could somewhat apply it to his own situation in theory. His entire existence was a lie. He was raised by a man who wasn't his biological father. As much as his past disgusted him, he was who he was today because of John House. His mother claimed that he loved him, but he never totally believed it. He lived under the impression that he was never good enough. Conversely, Kutner was lucky. His adoptive parents never made him feel anything less than what they felt for their biological children, they loved him despite that fact. Once House suspected that he was not truly his father's son, he couldn't help but believe that his father hated him because of it, that he somehow knew that he wasn't his child. In Kutner's case, the lie was out there in the open. In his, it remained an unspoken secret until he confronted his father about it the day during the summer he was twelve.

They had had a particularly bad argument over something so inconsequential now he couldn't even remember what it was about. He had just wanted to hurt him for being so mean and unforgiving. He had wanted to see what his father would say, would he admit to knowing, would he admit to hating him because of it. Even during the aftermath of his declaration, he had never had the courage to confront his mother about it. He felt that somehow if he had told her what he had said or what he suspected, if she had admitted it, it would have invalidated everything he had ever know up until that point in his life. Even at twelve, he knew the gravity of what that meant. But, now, something had changed and he had blurted it out to her literally in front of all those people, people he would normally never share such personal information with. He didn't know why or how he had been able to discuss it with her after all of these years or why he felt the need to still know the truth. Now that his father was dead, he wasn't even sure it really mattered anymore. _The war was over…_

He and Kutner wrapped up dinner talking about the various blues musicians they both listened to and discussed what kinds of influences they each had in their guitar playing. House was surprised that their tastes had run so close in both style and aesthetic. Maybe one day it would be kind of interesting to play guitar with him.

Returning home, he closed the door to the apartment and slipped off his jacket, hanging it on the hook and tossing his keys into the bowl. The TV was on and Cate was lying on the couch already in her pj's. He didn't even realize it was past nine when he walked through the door. Hobbling over to the sofa, he leaned his cane against the end table and he bent over to kiss her hello before he sat by her feet. He took her socked feet into his lap and ran his hand down the front of her shins.

"Socks?" he queried. It was warm in the apartment already from the heat but her feet were ice cold even under the thick cotton of her socks.

She frowned a bit and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I had a little Reynaud's attack because I ran out to get something from the car without my jacket on."

He fixed her with a look and she shook her head.

"Yeah, yeah, you don't have to say anything. I promise not to do it again, " she said sitting up and placing her book on the coffee table. "Could you please just start a fire?"

He rose from the couch without a word and proceeded to get a fire going in the hearth. "You really should learn how to do this yourself, " he said coming back to the couch.

"It scares me, " she said. "I'd rather you just do it." She snuggled into his shoulder and laced her fingers with his. Her pinky fingers were blue and her index and middle fingers white on the tips divided with a dark red line where the blood pooled closer to her palm in a classic display of the disorder. He immediately put them in his arms pits to warm them as he pulled her in closer to him.

He heard her sigh contentedly and she pressed herself closer to his body. "Where'd you go tonight?"

"I had dinner with Kutner, " he said proudly.

She looked up at him astonished. "You did?"

"He blackmailed me with a birthday party, " he replied grumpily.

"Damn those people who want to do nice things for you, " she admonished sarcastically. "What the hell are they thinking?"

He rolled his eyes deflecting her teasing. "Free food. It's a no brainer."

"Where'd you go?"

His stomach gurgled on cue. "Tex Mex, " he said with a cheeky smile.

Cate grimaced. "Oh, god… you just made open flame! We could die."

"I'm well on my way to my 5110 farts in a year, " he said. She looked at him quizzically and decided not to ask what that meant. "You need fuel for such a feat."

"Great. That's so charming, " she said pushing herself up. "I'm gonna lay back over here."

"Hey!" He pouted reaching out for her. She smacked his hand away and laughed wagging her finger at him. "Fine, " he said dejectedly downcasting his eyes over-dramatically.

She chuckled and reached for something on the coffee table. "I've been waiting for you to get home because your mother gave this to me to give to you and I've been dying to know what's inside."

He looked at her oddly. "You didn't look inside?"

"No, " she said looking at him with her innocent chocolate eyes. "It's for you."

He rolled his eyes at her and took the crafted box from her hands. "I so would have looked, just so you know."

"Ok, next time I'll snoop, on your recommendation, " she said eagerly peering over his shoulder to look inside the box. "It looks like a bunch of letters."

He flipped the lid open wider and fingered through the contents. It was indeed a bunch of letters. And a diary. He drew his eyebrows together in a frown. There was a group postmarked from Okinawa, Japan. With a heavy sigh, he dug further. They were all addressed to Blythe House from his father, some from Japan, some from Hawaii and Germany. The last set, tied with a faded green ribbon were addressed to her as well but from a Paul Sheppard, Lt. USMC. His hand reeled back suddenly and he looked at Cate. She was staring wide-eyed at him her mouth open in quiet shock.

"Oh my God, " she whispered. He didn't say anything. He just stared at the contents of the box on his lap. Gingerly, she touched his arm. "Greg, are you going to read them?"

He took in a long breath and cleared his throat. "I don't know." He shook his head to clear his thoughts and frowned sardonically. He looked at her and gave her a half smile. "You should have looked in the box."

"Greg, the entire truth must be in those letters, " she said to him.

He placed the box onto the table with a thud and stood up. He ran his knuckles against the stubble on his jaw. He felt antsy and uncertain. He was not expecting this at all. His mother had said that she would tell him the entire truth once she was settled. He never expected that he would receive a box full of it right there in black and white.

Cate crossed her arms and watched him as he began to pace. She was quiet for a long time gauging whether or not to talk to him. "Now that it's at your fingertips, the truth's a little daunting isn't it?"

House stopped his pacing and regarded her for a moment. She was doing her thing to get him to talk. He gave her a self-deprecating smile. She could see right through him and he loved her for it. "Yeah."

"You don't have to look at them now. You can close the box and put them away until you're ready."

He nodded. "I don't know why I'm hesitating."

"Because then it becomes real. You have a name now. You know that there was another man in your mom's life who is your father and he's not the man you grew up with. When you read those letters you will see your mother in a light you've never known her in. That's scary."

He scratched at his beard and brought his hand around to rub the back of his head in frustration. "I don't want to think less of her. I spent too much time doing that when I first figured it out. I don't want to do that again."

"Why did you think you think less of her?" Cate asked seriously.

"Because she had an affair, she lied, " he said. "My mother, the woman who never let me lie, was an adulteress. That's a big deal."

Cate shifted her position and tucked her feet under her. "I'm an adulteress. Do you think less of me?"

He leaned his elbow on the mantle of the fireplace and stared into the flame. "That's different." Her affair was hardly an affair. She was in a relationship with a man who had already chosen to leave his wife.

"How is it different?" she challenged.

"My mother was married, " he said. "She married an insane moral compass and it ruled our lives. I can't imagine how she could have made a decision to go against that and then keep the secret for fifty years."

"Maybe the circumstance dictated that she should, " she surmised. "You'll never know for sure until you read them."

He closed his eyes and ran his thumb over his forehead. He was getting a head ache. His brain hurt and his leg was beginning to throb. He took out his Vicodin from his jeans pocket and stared at the amber vial. The pain was a response to the stress. He had come to realize that much of his pain was exacerbated by his emotional stress. When he had started to cut back on the Vicodin, he was able to tolerate more and more with less and less. Of course there were days when the pain was intolerable because of weather or previous overuse but, the reliance on the drug wasn't as strong. This pain right now was because he was stressed. He tapped the vial on the mantel and the little pills clicked inside their home. It was a familiar comforting sound. This time he wanted the emotional release. He popped the vial open and palmed two into his mouth.

Cate came up behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist hugging him from behind. Her fingers had warmed now and he was glad as he laced his fingers in hers. "Why don't we close the box and watch TV or play Xbox?"

He turned around and folded her into his arms. The effects of the Vicodin were beginning to come over him in a wave. He was beginning to feel allriiight. He smiled down at her through the comfortable haze. "I think I need to kick your ass in Guitar Hero."

Her eyes got bright with the challenge. "Oh you think so?"

"I _know_ so, " he taunted with a giddy smile. "I'm the one who plays guitar, remember?"

"It's all in the hand eye coordination, " she winked. "I'll show you how that works later…" She twisted out of his arms and scurried over to turn on the Xbox. "…_after_ I school you at your own game."

"Not if I tie your hands up first, " he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Ooo, promises, promises, " she teased.

He limped back to the coffee table and closed the letter box taking it to the book shelf. He placed it in an open space with reverence and proverbially closed the door on that particular issue for a bit. He grabbed two beers from the fridge and returned to the couch where she handed him one of the guitars.

She goaded with her bright smile. "Bring it on, baby."

"Settle in and watch your master at work…"


	65. Chapter 65: What Now

Sessions 65: What Now

_What are you doing here?_

_I don't know._

_You must know or you wouldn't be here…_

_I don't know._

_I do._

_Then tell me._

_I can't._

_Why not?_

_Because you need to figure it out yourself._

_And what good will that do me?_

_Because you know what you need._

_What does that mean?_

_You're searching for answers that you already have._

_I don't know what that means._

_Yes you do._

_Answers to what?_

_To questions you won't ask…_

_Tell me what I should do._

_Get off the bus, House._

House woke on a huge gasp of air. He sat bolt up right. He blinked his eyes a few times and looked around. He exhaled in relief and ran his hand over his face bringing the light of this life back into his eyes. He was in exam room one in the clinic. He must have dozed off. He wasn't dead; he was dreaming. _Of Amber_.

Disturbed, he shook his head and hopped awkwardly off the table to hobble over to the sink. Washing his hands, he splashed some water on his face to rinse the sleep from his eyes. The cold water jolted him back to the harsh cold reality and he took a deep stabilizing breath. Swallowing a little water from a paper cup, he leaned against the counter to support himself. Why was he dreaming about Amber?

He hadn't dreamt of Amber in over five months. Every night back then, he would have the same dream about her, or at least some variation of it. It was the same hallucination he had before he woke from his coma after the brain stimulation. Right after she died. They were sitting on the bus together and he had wanted to stay with her. He didn't want to leave because there was no pain there on the bus. He had told her that he was tired of the pain. That he was tired of being miserable. He was afraid that Wilson would hate him. And every time he saw her, she always said the same thing. She told him that he couldn't always get what he wanted. Just like the old song that became his mantra said, "_You can't always get what you want…"_

But, he had stopped having those dreams. When exactly did he stop having those dreams? He wasn't really sure because he knew he had them for a few weeks after Wilson left. He shook his head and he sighed. No, he knew exactly when. He stopped having them when Cate came back from the South Pole and into his life.

So why was he dreaming about Amber now?

What did that mean?

This particular dream was different from the other ones. This time he wanted an answer from her. But she wouldn't tell him. It was all very strange. They were on the same bus, in the same white light, in the same cool perfectly climate controlled air. And he felt no pain. It was all so peaceful and serene. But he was confused. Though, he wasn't sure if that was in the dream or if that was now.

The door swung open and the lights turned on effectively blinding him since he had closed the shades to darken the room and keep incognito from Cuddy and the rest of the world.

"If you're done with naptime, there are patients that need to be seen."

He blinked his eyes to let them adjust to the light and stared at Nurse Ratchet with a scowl that merely made her roll her eyes at him.

"Don't play games with me today, I'm not in the mood, " she barked and thrust a red folder into his hand before ushering a patient into the room.

He sneered at her before she left and tossed the chart onto the counter. He didn't know why she even bothered to give him those things because they never had anything useful in them. _Name_, he didn't care about; _insurance information_, he could give less of a shit about. And half the time the symptoms listed had nothing to do with what the real reason the person was there in the clinic in the first place.

Pinching his thumb and forefinger together on the bridge of his nose, he steeled himself for the boring mundane, insanity that was the clinic. Back to reality. _Back to living_. This one should be fun, the guy looked to be about twenty two or three years old, gauntly thin, greasy black hair hanging in his eyes and dressed like he was going to the suicidal emo convention in dorm room 412.

"So, what seems to be the problem, " House inquired wearily as he had so many times before.

The young kid had not sat down on the exam table since he walked into the room and was pacing, albeit gingerly, along the floor in front of him. "It really hurts, man. I think it's infected."

House frowned because he knew the answer to the next question was not going to be a good one. "What really hurts?"

The kid looked at him with a dismayed grimace. House almost reflected the look back to him, but pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows in anticipation instead.

"What do you think is infected?"

"It's my Johnson, doc, " he said.

_Of course it is…_ House rolled his eyes skyward. _Amber, if you have half the cajones you had down here up there, could you please have God smite me where I stand? Just get it over with and save me from this idiocy_… He waited for the lightening bolt, partially out of his request and partially out of his blasphemy of asking the God he didn't believe in for a favor. He waited a little more. Maybe God was fucking with him. Nope. Nothing. Resignedly he yanked two gloves from the dispenser on the wall and snapped them on as he positioned himself on the rolling stool. No more like God was fucking with him by making him walk purgatory in the clinic.

"Unzip your pants and let's have a look."

The kid unbuckled his turquoise studded belt and very carefully unzipped his extremely tight black jeans shoving them down, underwear and all. How this kid could even fit himself in these jeans was beyond him.

House turned to take a look.

"Gah!" He wheeled backward stunned. Ouch, holy shit, that looked extremely, stupidly, painful. No wonder the kid could barely sit still. "What the hell is that?" He asked pointing at the patient's swollen red and scabby member.

He winced and his voice rose and octave as he swallowed hard. "A Prince Albert."

"Gone horribly wrong!" House squinted his eyes in a painful grimace. He moved forward again for a closer look. "What are you an idiot? Why would you willingly drive a metal rod through your penis?"

"My girlfriend thought it'd be hot, " he said lamely as an excuse through his gritted teeth.

House closed his right eye and looked at the ceiling as if thinking about something really hard. "Uh, let me see, NOOOO!" House wheeled over to his cane against the wall. "That is going to need surgery to come out."

The kid's eyes widened to saucer proportions and he looked like he might actually cry. Frankly, House didn't blame him. "Will I lose…you know…_it_?"

House shook his head. "No. It just won't be as pretty as it used to be." He grabbed his cane and stood rubbing the stiffness out of his muscle. "Someone will be in to transport you to surgery." He left the small exam room and limped over to Nurse Ratchet on the other side of the desk. "Schedule really stupid emo kid for surgery with a plastic surgeon. He has a SEVERLY infected piercing in a place where there should never be a piercing, if you know what I mean."

She looked at him speculatively. "You're not pulling my leg?"

He leveled a glare at her. "A man would never joke about an infected penis."

"Ok, " she said picking up the phone simultaneously handing him another folder. "Room two."

He grabbed the folder from her hand with a yank and sighed heavily as he limped over to room two. His hand paused on the doorknob and he took a deep breath preparing for the next loony toon behind door number two. With a flourish he swung the door open. "Good afternoon, I'm Dr. House…"

The young woman on the table looked at him with a small hesitant smile as he entered the room. "I'm so glad you're a man, " she said on a sigh of relief.

House cocked an eyebrow at her.

"We'll, I mean, that you're not a woman doctor, " she attempted to clarify twisting her hands in her lap.

"Yes, that would be because I am a man, " he said circling a finger randomly in the air and limped the rest of the way into the room. "Which you've already said makes you glad." He narrowed his eyes at her and regarded her from the short distance across the tiny room.

A baby suddenly gurgled from the exam table behind her. He raised his eyebrows in surprise because he had missed that when he first walked into the room. She twisted around to reveal a tiny baby in a car carrier all dressed in pink. The baby looked like she was about eight weeks old. All pink and perfect.

"Babysitting?" He guessed. This girl looked all of eighteen and painfully too thin to have just delivered eight weeks ago.

She shook her head dejectedly. "No, she's mine."

House nodded, surprised for the second time in as many minutes. "Why so down? Most women would kill to have your body four weeks after childbirth?"

She glanced at him and frowned. "Yeah well, I'd rather be fat than feel like I feel now."

"What's wrong, " he said taking a lollipop out of his jacket pocket and unwrapping it. He leaned against the wall to take some of the pressure off his leg and crossed his arms.

"I'm tired all the time. I have no appetite, no energy, I don't even want to hold my baby."

"Are you eating?" he asked sucking on his lollipop.

"Yeah, I force myself to eat, because I'm breastfeeding, " she said watching him.

"Are you producing milk?"

"Yeah. "

"Baby looks like she's eating, " he said motioning to the infant carrier with his candy.

"She is, but I'm never sure how much she gets because it's so difficult. It hurts so bad."

House narrowed his eyes at her. "After four weeks it shouldn't hurt anymore."

She sighed heavily. "It's been two and half months."

"Then it really shouldn't hurt anymore."

"That's what the woman at the place told me. She said I just wasn't doing it right."

House nodded. "Ah, the femi-nazis at the breast feeding council… are you supposed to stop shaving your armpits and only eat tofu too?"

She chuckled a little and smiled. "They make me feel like I'm a bad mother because I can't breastfeed."

"_Not_ feeding your baby makes you a bad mother, " he said. "Trying breastfeeding and finding out it doesn't work for you, _doesn't._" He approached her and put his stethoscope into his ears. "Have you been to your post delivery check-up?"

She nodded. "That's why I wanted a different doctor. Someone who wasn't a woman."

"Let me guess, Zena Queen of the Femi-nazis, " he said bringing the end to her chest to listen to her heart. He listened, and instructed her to breathe in and out as he checked the lobes of her lungs. Satisfied that her heart and breath sounds were normal, he checked her blood pressure and her pulse. "You're pressure is a little low, which could contribute to your lack of energy, but, I'm inclined to blame that on that pink little bundle of no sleep over there."

He held out his lollipop for her to hold. She took it with out question and he gave her a lopsided smirk as he pulled down her eye lids and looked inside her mouth at her gums. "You, Mommy, are anemic."

"What does that mean?" she asked handing him back his lollipop.

"It means you don't have enough red blood cells to carry oxygen to your organs and tissues, " he said limping back over to the wall where the stool was. He pulled it over with is foot and sat down. "It could be a symptom of another condition or it could simply mean your body's not regenerating itself after birth because it's so busy making food for the little parasite. My guess is it's the latter. Eat a few steaks and spinach and I'll write you another prescription for prenatal vitamins to take for the next two months and you should be fine."

The young woman breathed a little sigh of relief. "So it's not my fault."

"Nope."

She looked at him with doleful eyes. "Do I have to continue breastfeeding?"

"No. You can do whatever you want. We live in a world where they make these things called bottles and formula which some people are in denial that it's actually better than mother's milk if her body isn't producing the nutrients the baby needs to grow properly."

"It's expensive, though isn't it?" she asked with that familiar sense of shame for not having enough money.

"Not if you come here to pick it up for free, " he told her.

She brought her hands to her face and let out a cry of relief mixed with residual anguish.

House rolled his eyes. "Come on, don't start crying on me. We were doing so well."

She swiped at her eyes and laughed at herself. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd be like everyone else…"

"We'll it's your lucky day. You found the only doctor who's not like everyone else, " he said with a sense of irony.

She hopped off the table and glanced at her baby and then back at him.

"Doctor, could you just look at Annabelle and make sure she's ok?" she asked bringing her full attention to her daughter and unbuckling her. "I want to be sure I didn't hurt her by being stupid and trying to be something I'm obviously not." She didn't really give him a choice, seeing as how she already had the baby out of the carrier and onto the exam table. She unzipped the bunny fleece and removed the wiggling arms and legs from her outer clothing and thrust the squirming infant into his arms.

Taken aback, he clutched the baby to his chest as he came near the table. His large hand came up instinctively to cradle the back of the baby's delicate head as his other supported her bean bag weight under her diapered bottom. Her entire little cushioned butt fit into the palm of his hand and somewhere in the back corners of his mind he was amazed at how soft she was. Her silken hair swirled over her perfectly round head and her tiny lips drew into a shiny red miniature bow as the pouted forward in a sweet little sucking motion. He adjusted her up higher against his chest and she nuzzled in against the warmth of his shirt right against his heart that was hammering rapidly now against his sternum. He was awkward and unskilled when it came to babies. He didn't hold them or want to hold them or even want to be in the same room with them. Yet here he was doing all three, well, except for the wanting part. That he wasn't really doing.

"She likes you, " the mother said as she brought her hand up to the side of her daughter face and stroked it gently with two fingers.

He lifted the corners of his mouth into a self-conscious attempt at a smile. She beamed back at him like he was doing a perfect job. The softness of her skin and the wonderful smell of baby trapped him there frozen in the moment, unsure what to do next. _Oh yeah, check the baby…_

He placed her gently down onto the exam table and undid the snaps of her pajamas so he could listen to her heart. Her heart rate was echoing the speed of his own except for someone of her size that was normal rhythm. Her breath sounds were good. He looked in her eyes and ears, all good. He looked at her legs and hip rotation, all good.

"She's got a little pudge around the thighs, " he said. "That means she's eating fine and gaining weight. She'll be a fat round Jabba the Hut in no time on the formula." He placed his hand on the baby's head, rubbing it gently before he stepped back for her to redress her little bundle of joy. He paused and smiled before looking back at the young mother. "I'll set you up with your prescription and the Nurse outside will get you an appointment with our person for WIC."

She looked at him curiously. "What is that?"

"It's a government program that provides formula and food to low-income mothers and their children, " he explained. He was going to make a snide comment about the socialization of medicine and food programs but, he kept his mouth shut. At least someone should benefit from it.

"Thank you so much doctor, " she said genuinely.

He nodded and limped out of the room. Shaking his head, he paused for a moment inhaling the scent of baby powder on him. It smelled good. Way too good. He shuddered from his head to his toes to shake off the stench of hypocrisy that was permeating his very being. That was too close for comfort. Way too close.

_Get off the bus, House._


	66. Chapter 66: PsychoBabble

Sessions 66: Psycho-babble

"_Did you figure it out yet?"_

"_Figure what out?"_

"_What you need to know?"_

"_Why are you deliberately being obtuse with me?"_

_Amber smirked at him and raised a finely arched eyebrow. For being dead, he had to give it to her, the girl looked pretty good._

_She shrugged and gave him a knowing smile. "I'm not being obtuse, you're being dense."_

_He rolled his eyes at her in frustration. "If being curious about this 'mystery question' is being dense then, whatever, I'm not playing."_

_She laughed her musical laugh at him and flicked her clear blue eyes to the front of the bus. "You're always playing a game, House. It's what you do."_

_He sighed and looked at his hands in his lap. His feet were bare and he was wearing a thin hospital gown. He was comfortable in the bright white light that surrounded them… He didn't feel pain, he didn't feel anxiety, he just… was. "So, if I'm so into games, let's play twenty questions then…" he suggested._

"_How's that going to help you, " she asked him._

"_It will give me a place to start, " he said. _

"_If you don't know where to start then I suppose you're not ready to know, " she said sliding him a sidelong glance._

"_What is there to know?"_

_Amber tilted her head and her blonde hair cascaded down in the empty space. Her pink lips smiled at him and her eyes twinkled with mystery. "Everything." She stated it as if that was the most obvious thing in the world._

_He threw his head back in frustration and groaned. "What does that mean? 'Everything'? What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"_

"_Get off the bus, House."_

"_No." He stared angrily at her. "I'm not leaving until you tell me."_

"_Get off the bus, House."_

House flicked his eyes open and looked around. Damn it. It happened again. He'd fallen asleep in his yellow chair in his office and had another dream about Amber. What the fuck was this all about? This was the third dream in two days. He hadn't told Wilson about it. He hadn't told anyone for that matter. At first he didn't think it was worth mentioning because it was probably some kind of weird fluke. But now it was starting to piss him off. Mostly because it was so damn frustrating. Each time he had the dream woke up more and more annoyed and confused. He loved his sleep and now he was starting to get aggravated that she kept creeping into his dreams and ruining his personal quiet time. She was apparently as annoying in death as she was in real life and he didn't want her continuing to interrupt his solitude of dream time that was reserved for Angelina or Scarlet or duh… Cate, the _real_ flesh and blood woman in his life. No, this dream stalking would just not do.

Slowly he rubbed his hands over his face to wake himself up fully before standing. He reached for his cane and left his office. Looking at his watch, he decided that he needed a second opinion about this dream nonsense. He had to get to the bottom of this before he lost one more minute's sleep over it. He jabbed the elevator button with the tip of his cane and waited agitatedly for the doors to slide open. Ironically, the floor number was already pushed so he leaned on his cane and waited for the car to deposit him onto her floor. Hobbling with a purpose down the hallway, he passed her receptionist without a word and opened her office door in a wide sweep.

"Dr. House, you can't just go… never mind, " the thin young woman protested without effect.

He proceeded into the room blatantly ignoring the flustered woman and plopped himself down on the leather couch. Propping his feet up on the coffee table, he stretched out his arms, lacing his fingers behind his head and crossing his feet at the ankles. He let out a big exaggerated sigh as she huffed at him from behind.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Milton, " the receptionist pathetically apologized. House rolled his eyes. When was she going to get it that he didn't need to be announced, as if he were a regular patient? _Talk about being dense._

Cate smiled at her warmly; she was always so good to people in their idiocy. "It's ok, Judy. It's not your fault." She threw him a pointed look as she stood gracefully from behind her desk. She had left early this morning before he had woken up so he hadn't gotten a chance to see her dress in his favorite deep olive green cashmere sweater and tighter than sin tweed skirt. _God, she was one sexy woman_. How come he was wasting his time dreaming about Cut-throat Bitch instead of this exquisite specimen? _What the fuck?_

He heard the door click shut behind him as her assistant left and brought his attention to Cate as she strolled casually over to him in her stiletto pumps that made her legs go on for miles. She leaned over him and kissed him sweetly 'hello', her lips lingering on his for an electric moment before crossing over to her chair and sitting down. She tossed him a piece of chocolate and he smiled as he was reminded about their first meetings in her office. He lifted the corner of his mouth into a lopsided smile as he popped the piece of chocolate into his mouth.

"So to what do I owe this little pleasure, " she asked.

He lowered his eyes to his hands as he played with the foil wrapper and frowned. "What, I can't come to visit my woman?"

She chuckled. "No, you never 'just come to visit' me any more."

He looked at her. "I visit you. Sometimes."

She laughed brightly. "Sometimes, if you want something or something's bothering you."

He frowned again and shrugged a little. "Ok, so what if I just came in for a little afternoon delight?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Ok. My next appointment's not until 3:45. You want to lock the door or should I?"

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

She giggled and a lovely blush came over her cheeks. "Maybe…after you tell me what's going on?"

He grimaced and half-heartedly rolled his eyes. "Tease…"

She shrugged at him and settled back into her chair waiting patiently for him to talk and he was once again reminded of their original sessions.

"I do miss this, " he said gesturing between them. "Talking to you, like this."

"You can come in here and talk me anytime you want, " she told him. "Provided you make an appointment first." She winked at him and chuckled.

"Oh, excuse me, I know how busy you are with all of your non-doctor 'doctoring', " he quipped making air-quotes with his fingers. She rolled her eyes at him and set her lips into a firm little smirk.

"Well, you know, I have to do something to keep me entertained throughout the day while my _arrogantly_ intelligent man is out saving the world from nefarious life threatening diseases, " she quipped back. "What else is a girl to do?"

"He must be extremely sexy, as well as, decidedly intelligent to have landed a smoking hot babe like you, " he countered.

"Oh, he is in a brooding, scruffy 'I'll hide my real feelings from the entire world' kind of way."

"Sounds like my kinda guy, " he said. "Oh wait, he is me."

She wiggled her eyebrows at him and smiled brightly. "Yes, he is."

He felt himself smile and he shook his head. His eyebrows drew together and he sighed heavily. "What does it mean when you dream about dead people?"

She tilted her head at him curiously. "Depends… on who it is, did you know them, were they close to you?" He nodded supposing all of that made sense. "Who are you dreaming about?" He took too long to answer her apparently because she asked, "Is it your father?"

"No." He looked away from her for a second and then turned back. "It's Amber."

She made an intrigued face, but that was her only reaction. "What kind of dreams are they?"

"We talk, " he said simply.

"What do you talk about, " she asked him. He felt himself begin to resist because it wasn't easy for him to talk about things that were figments of his imagination as if they were real, live events. He pushed the feeling down and told himself that the only way to the bottom of this was to get it out. And Cate knew how to do that better than anyone.

"We talk about nothing, " he stated.

"What do you mean 'nothing'?"

"We talk, but she tells me nothing, " he said, the frustration creeping back into his voice.

"Do you feel like she's supposed to tell you something, " she asked carefully.

He nodded. "Yes. She keeps asking me whether or not I've figured out the answer to what I _need_, like I'm supposed to know what that means."

"And you don't know what that means?"

He grunted. "No I don't know what the fuck that means, that's why I'm here talking to you."

Cate frowned. "Ok. How many of these dreams have you had?"

"I don't know, three or four."

"When did they start?"

"A couple of days ago, " he said.

She nodded like she knew something. He narrowed his eyes at her but she continued on. "Is there anything else that's significant about the dream that you can remember?"

He shrugged. "We're on the bus, except it's not the bus that crashed, it's another bus and it's completely white."

"White, like Heaven?" she inquired cautiously knowing how much he refused to believe in anything that remotely resembled the constructs of the afterlife.

"Maybe, " he said begrudgingly. "All I know is it's a really white bus, she's dead, but looks drop-dead gorgeous, pun intended… and I'm in a hospital gown."

"Are _you_ dead in the dream?"

"No. Just Amber."

"How do you know?"

"Because she keeps telling me to get off the bus, " he said. "And then I wake up."

"How does getting off the bus mean that you're not dead?" she asked him curiously.

"Because after she died, I had a dream when I was in the coma, where…" he paused and closed his eyes for a moment. "Where, I didn't feel any pain. I wanted to stay there, on that bus forever…with her. She told me I wasn't dead yet and I couldn't and that I had to get off the bus."

Cate nodded her head contemplating what he'd said for a few minutes. "You said she keeps asking you about an answer… tell me about that. What do you think that means?"

"I don't know," he began. "She asks me these vague questions about finding the answer but she won't tell me what the question is or give me any idea about what she wants me to figure out."

"And this frustrates you, " she acknowledged succinctly. "Because you feel like you _should_ know or because you are at a complete loss for what it might be?"

House thought about it for a second. "Both, I guess."

Cate opened her mouth to say something and then shut it, changing her mind. She sighed and then continued in what he assumed was another direction. "Why Amber? Why do you think she is the one asking you these questions?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"You just said that you dreamt of her before, after she died, " she replied. "Did those dreams have a tangible meaning?"

"I get why I dreamt about her for the entire summer after she died. I felt guilty and I knew that Wilson couldn't forgive me. But now, I have no idea what these mean; they don't make sense to me."

"Well, I have an idea, " Cate said carefully, almost prompting him.

"Do tell, " he pushed urgently.

"I think Amber is the inquisitive side of your brain. She continues to ask you about a mysterious question that you are unaware of and therefore cannot answer. She's trying to get you to acknowledge a part of yourself that you are in denial about. Something that won't come to light or that you _can't_ or _won't_ see, " she explained. She leaned forward a bit lacing her hands together and continued, "Amber also represents your feminine/emotional side…

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…. Don't pull out your psycho-babble crap… I do not have a feminine side."

She fixed him with a stare. "Are you gonna let me finish?"

House blew a snort out of his nose. He looked at her staring at him and rolled his eyes. Reluctantly, he gestured to her to continue. _Damn those big, chocolate velvet eyes_…

Cate shifted a little in her seat appeased by his general albeit reluctant compliance. "You told me a while ago that Amber was a female version of you." She raised her eyebrows at him waiting for his acknowledgment, when he did she went on. "If you think of her as the female version of you, she is softer, more emotional, more in tune to her feelings. She was willing to put herself out there for love and respect; you… not so much. You fight it and almost have to drag it out of yourself. This thing that's locked inside of your head is troubling you. Amber is the conduit to help you see whatever it is that you're hiding from yourself."

House sat for a minute absorbing her take on the situation. Some parts of it rang true. He wasn't too thrilled that Amber was a part of him in this scenario. It had freaked him out a little when he realized that Wilson was dating a female version of himself back when he was trying to figure out what his best friend saw in her. Wilson was his best friend, his bro, his homey, his dude… Dating a female version of him was well, just like dating _him_. And that wasn't cool. But he had gotten over that. Based on his own realization about that even from back then, Cate's explanation of Amber's presence sort of did make sense. Even still, that may be the _why_…but what about the _what_?

He sighed heavily. "What do you think I'm hiding from?"

"You said you started dreaming about her a couple of days ago, " she reiterated.

"Yeah, " he replied.

Cate let out a little breath. "I think it might be what's in those letters your mother gave you."

House made a face. "The letters?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Because I don't give a crap about what's in those letters, " he argued.

"That's a load of shit and you know it, " she challenged.

House shook his head. "I don't need to know what happened. It doesn't make a difference, whether I know or not. It won't change the truth."

"Your curiosity is needling you. It's like those letters are mocking you, begging for you to open them."

Houses shrugged. "Whatever…"

"I told you this would come back to haunt you, " she said with an ironic little chuckle. "And it's quite literally haunting you in the form of Amber."

He stared at her for a long while. She was staring back at him with her velvet eyes, a small smile on her lips. House inhaled deeply and let it out slowly between his lips. Maybe she was right. She knew him better than anyone lately, but … then again maybe she was dead wrong.

"So do I get sex now?" he asked, flashing her a mischievous smile.

Cate laughed and came over to the sofa placing herself gently on his lap. She traced her finger along the intricate design on the front of his t-shirt in the open neck of his button down shirt. An impish little smile formed on her lips and she shook her head. "Sorry, no."

He almost pouted. No that was a lie, he did pout, like a five year old. "No afternoon delight? I talked. And let you call me a _chick_."

She chuckled and kissed him lightly on the lips; when he went to deepen the kiss, she pulled back. "I have to pee like a race horse and then go check in on a patient before my next appointment. Besides don't you have a patient dying somewhere?"

"That's what I have minions for, " he said running his hand up the back of her sweater. "And I'm avoiding the clinic like tenfold because they decorated it for Christmas today."

She purred a little as his fingers drew slow circles against the smooth skin of her back. "Speaking of Christmas, what did you get me?"

"Nothing." Now it was her turn to pout. He chuckled and rubbed his nose against hers. "And if I did, do you really think I'd tell you?"

Her frown turned into a grin. "You did get me something. Cameron owes me fifty bucks."

He pulled his face back to look at her. "Cameron bet you that I wouldn't get you anything for Christmas?"

She nodded grimly.

"What a bitch." Why a part of him was insulted by that was beyond him but…_Fuck you, Cameron, that hurt!_

She flattened her palm against his chest and softened her smile. "It's not like that. We were joking around…"

"Yeah well, I'm an asshole but not that big of an asshole, " he defended himself.

"I know. You don't have to tell me, I'm the one who loves you, sharp pointy edges and all, " she reminded him, gave him a quick kiss and then squirmed off his lap. "I love you. Gotta go. Gotta pee."

He sat in her wake for a bit as she scurried out of the room presumably to go to the bathroom. He was pissed. One, because Cameron was a bitch and two, because now he really had to go and get Cate something extra-crunchy special for Christmas. _God dammit!_

Four days until Christmas… The malls were going to be a nightmare. _Fuck!_


	67. Chapter 67: The Gift

Sessions 67: The Gift

"I'm screwed, " House said plopping himself onto Wilson's office sofa. He lay back against the head rest and sighed heavily as pulled his rumpled jacket out from under his back and adjusted himself to get more comfortable. Cate's leather sofa was by far way more cushy and he was due for his afternoon nap but in light of this morning's dream and the new little tidbit he was sharpening his teeth on, he needed to bounce some ideas off of Wilson's head at the moment.

"What did you do now?" Wilson inquired boredly, barely looking up from his paperwork. House huffed offended that he rated lower than monotonous paperwork on this best friend's attention scale. It always amazed him how much paperwork Wilson did. It seemed like all he ever did, unless of course he had him in for a cancer consult. Which reminded him he had yet another stack he had to get Cheerleader to sign…

"I need to run away for Christmas, " he told his friend as he contemplated the tiles on the ceiling.

Wilson laughed. "Run away?"

"Yeah, get outta Dodge, take a hike, blow this taco stand…" He would have continued with the corny metaphors but he came up short. "You get my point."

Wilson looked up at him with his pen poised over a chart. "Ah that's right, Christmas is in five days." He smirked and let out a little laugh.

"Yeah, Joy to the Merry Fucking World." House frowned and aimed his cane like a sniper scope at a stray little speck of dust dangling from the ceiling. He imagined it was little sugarplum fairies dancing in his head. One by one he picked them off… "It's a holiday for massively greedy, moronic hypocrites who financially support world domination by Walmart."

Wilson tilted his head and lifted his hand to his ear to the air. "Oh wait, George, I think an angel just got its wings."

House rolled his eyes. And he hated that sappy ass movie too… It was hardly a wonderful life.

"Sorry House, you don't get to hate Christmas anymore. The girlfriend kind of makes that a moot point."

"Oh no? Cameron bet Cate fifty bucks that I wouldn't get her a Christmas present."

Wilson bit back a laugh. "Well, _did_ you?"

"Yeah, I got her something, " he said indignantly.

"So then why all the pouting and drama, " Wilson asked.

"Now I have to get her something big, " he explained.

Wilson nodded like he was following him. Then he shook his head with his eyebrows furrowed. "_Why_ do you have to get her something big?" He was clearly not following him. God, why did he always have to explain himself…

House sat up slowly abandoning his quest to rid the world of stupid dancing fairies and tapped his cane between his feet on the floor. "Because Cameron made me look like a huge asshole."

Wilson scoffed. "Like you've ever given a crap about that before!"

"Yeah, well… " he muttered.

"You didn't get her anything, " Wilson stated.

"I did. It's just not momentous enough to rub in Cameron's face, " he said.

"What did you get her, " Wilson asked curiously.

"It's nothing, " he said quietly, looking over his shoulder out the glass door. He did get her something. He ordered it weeks ago. He just wasn't going to tell Wilson what it was, because he'd completely rub it in his face at what a whipped sap he's become.

Wilson laughed out loud. "You _sooo_ did not get her anything."

House studied the floor evasively. "I did."

"Shit, if I had known about the bet, I would have put a hundred on it."

House threw his hands up in the air frustratedly, letting the cane fall against his lap. "I DID get her something, something she'd like. It's just not cool enough."

"Oh, really?" he challenged. "Then what is it?"

House rolled his eyes and grit his teeth. There wasn't any getting out of it. He was going to make him say it no matter. _Pain in the ass_… Couldn't he see he was struggling with this? "I got her this hand knit cashmere blanket because she likes to lay on the sofa all snuggled… what the fuck are you laughing at?" Wilson's shoulders started to bob up and down as he fought back the eruption of giggles that were effervescing from his mouth. He couldn't contain it any longer and the dam broke as the laughter tumbled out of him. Why, why, why did he trust him enough to tell him? He was never going to live this down. He should have just torn up his man card and thrown it like confetti for Wilson's little giggle party.

It took Wilson a full minute to regain his composure and stop sniggering. "You got her a _blanket_?" He started up again in a full blown chortle.

House threw his head back looking at the ceiling for temperance. "Yeah, it's cashmere, it's the only thing the woman puts on her body. It was fucking expensive, okay? Some blind little Tibetan woman probably raised the goat herself…"

Wilson fixed his mouth into a serious expression. "House, that's really sweet, " he said attempting to support him around his traitorous tongue before he couldn't help himself and bust out laughing again. "I'm sorry…" he squealed. "A blanket? What is she, six months old?"

"Fuck you, " House said as Wilson continued to be tickled by his ineptness at relationship mores. House rolled his eyes for like the hundredth time. "If you're such the expert, what did you get the Cuddle Monster for Chanukah?" He said the 'ch' like he was clearing a huge loogey out of his throat.

Wilson finally came up for air and wiped at the corners of his eyes. "Not a blanket. We got each other a trip to Jamaica."

"What?" House was dumbfounded. "Jamaica? When the hell did you decide this? How come you didn't tell me about it?""

"Last week. Chanukah starts on Sunday, on your birthday as a matter of fact. And I, unlike you, don't need to run everything by you before I make a decision."

House leaned back against the back of the sofa, a little bit perplexed. "When are you going?"

"We leave on the twenty-third," he told him. "We'll be there until the day after New Year's."

"You're gonna miss Christmas?"

"Considering we're Jewish, we didn't seem to think that would be a major issue, " Wilson said flatly.

House made a curious face. A trip to Jamaica? That was a good present. "Nice." He nodded his head, somewhat impressed.

Wilson looked at him. "Hey, you want to keep her warm, why don't you come with us, instead of giving her the blanket?" He started to giggle again but then trailed off.

House grimaced. "Go on vacation with you and She Who Must Not Be Named? No thanks."

"Why not? You haven't taken a real vacation in over three years. Plus, nothing would make you look like a stud and a half more than an all-inclusive trip to Jamaica."

House considered this for a couple of minutes. "There's no way she'll miss Christmas with Big Don."

"For a trip to a hot tropical island, I think she might, " Wilson added.

"She'd love the blanket, " House muttered.

"Trust me, she'll like the trip more, " Wilson assured him. "Think about it. It's all-inclusive, you can drink yourself senseless and then get up and drink some more. It's win-win."

The trip was sounding more and more like something he could do. Bright hot sun, sandy beaches, warm water, free flowing alcohol… no relatives. No Christmas carols. No shopping. Most importantly _no shopping_.

"Give me the number of your travel agent…"

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House leaned up against the cinderblock wall with his arms crossed. She was busy tonight with a few heart attacks, a couple of crash victims and a kid who fell off a ladder trying to put the star on the Christmas tree. He watched her as she administered to her patients like Florence Nightingale instead of the brilliant doctor she was. This job was so beneath her skill set but they'd been through that dance plenty of times before. Yet, tonight he was glad she was up to her elbows in lacerations, blood and vomit. Tonight he was pissed at her. She could stay there and wallow in her righteousness, for all he cared.

She caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye and she almost rolled her eyes but then changed her mind and narrowed them at him curiously instead. She pulled a curtain around her and a patient in the bed, erroneously thinking that he'd be so easily deterred. Five minutes later, she emerged surprised that he was still there.

She approached him with her hands in the pockets of her lab coat with a curious smile on her lips. "What do want House?"

"I thought I'd go slumming for a change, " he said flatly and looked around casually. "Busy tonight."

She looked around over her shoulder and then leveled her eyes at him. "Yes, I'm very busy. I don't have the luxury of having only one patient a week to deal with any more." He pursed his lips together in a wry smirk. She had said it like he was supposed to take the bait yet again and ask her to come back, but he was done with that.

"Yet you apparently still have the time to butt your nose in where it completely doesn't belong, " he retorted.

She gave him an exasperated smirk. "I was wondering how long it'd take you to come down here." She turned and walked to the Nurses' station to pick up another chart. "It was a joke House. You, the king of all that is infantile and sophomoric, have placed bets on far worse than that."

"Stay out of my business, " he warned her limping after her. She turned to look at him wide-eyed clearly surprised by his tone. She narrowed her eyes at him again in suspicion, wondering if he was for real. "I mean it, " he said punctuating any doubts to his seriousness.

Cameron frowned at him. "You're only pissed because I said it to her."

He looked down at her, towering over her little frame. "You're damn right I am. You may be friends with my girlfriend and pretend like it doesn't matter to you but that doesn't change the fact that you're bitter and jealous that you wound up with second place."

She stared at him with her mouth wide open in shock. Realizing she looked like a complete idiot, she snapped her mouth shut, her cheeks flushed with ire. Stepping closer to him, she hissed angrily through her teeth, "You're an arrogant son-of-a-bitch and the view from where I sit, you're the one who stepped in shit and came out smelling like a rose. I don't care _what_ you do, _who_ you're with or _how_ you spend your time. I don't need validation from you anymore and I am certainly not the one who's in second place."

He set his jaw firmly and glared at her. She had changed so much over the past two years since she'd left on her ridiculous quest to 'do some good and get it out of her system'. He used to think she was annoying and sickeningly sweet. Now, she was rough and hard around the edges. She was like him. And he hated that worse. The stench of bitter irony didn't smell good on her. He was loath to say that he regretted how much influence he had on her.

"Keep me out of your friendship with her, she doesn't need my…_shortcomings_ thrown in her face any more than they already are, " he said with a touch of humiliation that he hadn't intended to come out.

Cameron's face was a mask of porcelain but her green eyes flashed at him. "She loves you and there's nothing I or anyone can say that will change her mind. It was a joke House, at your expense for a change. Get over it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have patients to see."

He shook his head in self-derision. _"That went well…"_

House watched her go. He turned on his heel and limped toward the elevator. Cate may have been the one to have wound up with the consolation prize of him, but he'd be damned sure that he wasn't going to do his best to give her everything she deserved.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate sat on the sofa with her feet up. She was under a blanket and Sexy Kitty was on her lap like a fur covered hot water bottle. She had a cup of tea by her side as she watched _CSI:NY_ reruns on _Spike _which was rapidly becoming her favorite channel thanks to him. There happened to be a three episode marathon on tonight so she was good to go until House decided to wander through the door. He had texted her before she left the hospital saying he had some things to take care of and he'd be home after dinner so from experience she didn't really expect him home until late.

It was almost 8:30 when he finally strolled through the door which was actually early by his standards. She leaned her head back to look at him and smiled brightly surprised to see him so soon. He had something in his hands that he placed on the credenza before he hung his cane on the molding and limped heavily over to kiss her 'hello'. Stella and Danny were interviewing a bouncer at a 'cuddle party' on the TV and Danny was irritatedly asking about the 'puppy pile'. House made a curious face and shook his head before going back to the credenza to retrieve his package.

"So what happened with your patient, " Cate wondered.

"Died. So I had some time to run some errands, " he replied nonchalantly.

Cate sat up and looked at him wide-eyed. "Oh my God…"

He shook his head and made an amused face. "I was kidding."

Cate rolled her eyes. "Greg, that's not funny."

He chuckled as he hobbled back over to the sofa. "Yeah, it was. You had to see the look on your face."

She sighed and pulled Sexy Kitty into her arms up against her chest. The little cat head butted her chin and purred loudly at the attention. "So, where'd you go?"

Coming over to the sofa, he sat down and took her blanketed feet into his lap. "I was taking care of some last minute preparations..." Immediately the traitorous little cat squirmed out of her arms and padded down her torso and onto her the bridge of her legs on her way over to her most favorite person in the whole wide world. She climbed up his chest and nestled herself under his chin, purring contently that her sugar-daddy was home. "…for your Christmas present, " he ended with a head-butt the mouth.

Cate narrowed her eyes speculatively at him for a moment but couldn't help herself as a girlish smile crept over her lips. She hated to admit that she was so easy when it came to presents, but damn it she was. She was giddy with anticipation. And she was dying to know what he got her. He seemed legitimately offended about the bet thing, which she felt bad about and she hoped that he hadn't gone out specifically to do something that he originally had no plan on doing. That wasn't at all what her intention was when it slipped out this afternoon. In fact, she had never meant to tell him about it in the first place because she knew he'd be angry with Cameron. He could dish it out like a pro, but often couldn't take it on the way back around. She almost felt bad for Cameron for the retaliation she was most likely going to have to endure.

She pointed to the neatly wrapped box on the coffee table and bit the edge of her lip. "Is that it?"

"Uh huh, " he murmured as Sexy Kitty continued to love him up and down rubbing her face against his beard. This had become a nightly ritual for the two of them.

Cate chewed on the edge of her thumb and eyed him. "Do I have to wait until Christmas?"

He smiled and pushed the cat down to his lap as he leaned forward to grab the gift from the table. "No." He placed the foil wrapped box in her hands with a satisfied smirk knowing full well that he was toying with her. "Open it."

Cate felt herself grin from ear to ear at the eagerness to open the box. She half felt like tearing open the paper and devouring it to get to the gift inside and half felt like delicately opening the beautiful reflective paper and bow to save it as a memento of her first Christmas gift from him.

It was a thin box that was longer than it was wide. She fingered the edge and then shook it gently listening to it rustle inside.

"Don't shake it, " he objected with an exasperated roll of the eyes.

"What? Will it break?" she asked.

"No, " he replied slightly miffed.

She looked at the box. "It's not breakable but it's in a tie box…"

He looked at her incredulously. "How'd you know that?"

"I'm a woman, I shop."

"It's light, it could be piece of jewelry, but it's not the right shaped box, " she speculated. "Is it a silk scarf?"

He grabbed for the box and she yanked it out of reach with a laugh. "Would you stop trying to guess what it is and just freaking open it?"

"It's my gift, I'll take as long as I like to open it, " she stated. She grinned at his frustrated sigh.

"Big Don said you'd be a pain in the ass, " he muttered and lolled his head back against the couch.

She stared openly at him. "You called my dad?"

"Yeah, just open the damn box, " he griped.

She narrowed her eyes at him extremely curious now as to what was hiding inside this beautifully wrapped box. It was something that he had to speak to her father about and that in and of itself was something to be definitely concerned about. She shook it again not even wanting to think about if the box had been a distinctly different, smaller shape… because _that_ she knew was foolish and would most certainly never happen. Her heart started to beat a little faster and she became a little nervous. What the hell was this lightweight thing that made hardly any noise?

Unable to tame her curiosity any longer she slipped her finger under the taped edges and removed the paper to reveal the smooth red box from Macy's. She looked at him to gauge his reaction but he was casually watching her, his expression decidedly unreadable. Carefully, she lifted the lid off the bottom and placed it on her lap before unfolding the tissue paper back. What was inside was clearly not from Macy's. They box was a decoy and a means to an end.

Two airplane tickets were nestled inside. She looked at him and then back to the box without a word. Curling her finger tips around the edge she lifted them from the box and read their destination: Montego Bay, Jamaica.

"Oh my God, " she said cover her mouth with her hand. There were two vouchers for Sandals Resorts Ocho Rios, Jamaica underneath. "OH MY GOD!"

He didn't say anything he just sat there with a blank expression on his face. "Look at the date." She peered closer at the ticket. December 23rd.

"Greg, that's …that's… three days from now, " her eyes searched him.

"I know, " he said.

"But, Christmas, my father…" she protested half-heartedly.

"That's why I called him, " he explained holding her gaze with his intense blue eyes. She could see it now. He was uncertain.

Her heart squeezed and tears welled in her eyes. She came to her knees and knelt forward touching her hand to his face where she tenderly placed a kiss on his lips. "You are the most loving man."

He closed his eyes and turned away against her adoring remark, uncomfortable with the compliment. "Don't look away from me, it's true."

"It was Wilson's idea, " he said quietly slowly looking back at her.

"I don't care, " she told him. "You called my father to see if it was okay. That was more of a gift to me than anything."

"You don't want to go?" he asked her carefully.

"No I'm amazed and ecstatic, I love it, " she said looking down at the tickets in her palm. "But why?"

"Because, " he deflected as he ran his long finger down the side of her face and into her hair. "I should have just given you the blanket."

"You got me a blanket, too?" she asked curiously.

He nodded. "Hand knit, cashmere."

"Ooo, nice, " she gasped. "Is it really soft?"

"Yeah, " he said with a little smile.

She chuckled and hugged him tightly to her. "I love you so much."

"You're not gonna love me so much when I tell you we're going with Wilson and Cuddy."

She pulled back to look into his eyes to see if he was serious. He was. She shrugged. It didn't really matter to her. It was a vacation to a hot tropical island, who would complain about that? It wasn't like they'd be sharing a room with them. "That'll be fun."

He grimaced and tilted his head side to side dubiously. She laughed and kissed him again. "We'll this sure beats the shit out of what I got you."

He pulled back this time to regard her for a moment. "I told you not to get me anything."

She rolled her eyes at him and get up off the sofa with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Whatever and you weren't supposed to get me anything either, " she said as she went to the closet in the hallway. He watched her as she dug into the opening retrieving a medium sized box wrapped in candy cane paper and big red bow. Coming back she placed it on his lap. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Candy canes? Are you mocking me?"

"Totally, " she said with an impish grin. He shook his head and laughed.

"You had this in the closet the whole time, " he asked unwrapping the paper tearing at it without any of the consideration she gave to her present. "How did I not see it?"

"I think that's actually the place the buried Jimmy Hoffa, no one can find anything in there, " she griped. He rolled his eyes and popped open the cardboard box peering inside. His eyes widened in shock and then his brows knit in confusion as he reached his hand into the box. A smile stole over her face as he pulled out the antique doctor bag full of tincture bottles and old stethoscope he had admired on their first date in New Hope.

"No way. This is the… from the…" he stammered. "I can't believe you remembered."

Her smile grew bigger. "I actually got it a week after we saw it."

He shook his head speechless and touched. Placing the box and paper remnants on the floor, he looked inside the thick leather of the bag examining its contents. "These have to be about a hundred years old. What made you go back for this? That was our first date."

"I don't know. Something told me I should, " she said.

He carefully placed the medical bag on the coffee table and then leaned back and pulled her into his arms burying his face into her neck. She felt his breath hitch in chest as he squeezed her tightly to him. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark and stormy as he cast them down in between them. "I don't want you to ever feel like you've won second place because of me."

Cate's heart clutched in her chest and her breath caught in her throat. "Oh Greg, how could you possibly believe that I feel that way? I love you more and more with every passing day. If nothing in our life ever changed from this day forward, I would feel like the luckiest woman in the world. You are all that I need and want. I could never ask for more."

His eyes searched her as he brushed his hand over her shoulder and then back against her neck as he pulled her down to him to kiss her deeply and thoroughly. She put every ounce of her being into that kiss so he could feel how deep her love for him ran and to help him truly believe that what she said to him was true.

The kiss ended when neither of them could breathe anymore. She pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. This time they were stormy with desire instead of doubt and her pulse quickened at the intensity of his gaze. "I'm going to light a fire and then I'm going to come back here and make love to you under that cashmere blanket I got you, " he told her kissing her senseless one more time before going off to make good on his promise.

He made love to her slowly and meticulously, worshiping ever inch of her body in the amber cascade of light that emanated from the fireplace. They had wanted to do this since his mother moved out but hadn't dedicated the time except for a quick romp one morning before Sunday brunch with Wilson and Cuddy. This time he took his time drawing out every feeling, every sensation. His hands orchestrated a symphony of tantalizing currents of peaks and valleys of desire. Cate reveled in his touch as he brought her to the crest of ecstasy time and again playing her like the delicate strains of a sonata on the piano. He could say the words that he loved her but his touch is what made her know how deep his feelings truly ran for her. She was bound to his soul in a way that tethered him to the reality that everyone else lived in, that made him capable of being a real man with feelings and desires that extended beyond selfish pursuits. She had always known that she was his salvation and that thought excited her beyond any gift he could have given her. The fact that he had chosen her to be his companion, to be his equal was more than enough.

They lay peacefully in the afterglow of their lovemaking and the warmth of the fire under the rich softness of the cashmere blanket. The delicateness of the weave tickled her skin but it felt glorious wrapped around their naked bodies as an odd symbol of his understanding of what she really desired out of life. Pure comfort, both emotional and physical. She kissed his chest where it peeked out from under the blanket and when he didn't move she knew he had drifted of to sleep. She nestle her head against the cushion of his shoulder and floated into a contented, comfortable sleep, feeling more loved than she had ever felt in her entire life.


	68. Chapter 68: Into the Fire

Sessions 68: Into the Fire

"_You haven't figured it out yet."_

"_Oh no?"_

"_Nope."_

"_How is that?"_

_Amber turned her head. "If you did, you wouldn't be here with me."_

_House rolled his eyes and looked across the bus realizing there were no windows. "So… why is it that I'm here with you?"_

_She chuckled musically. "I don't know, you tell me."_

"_Because, you're supposed to tell me something that I need to know, " he told her._

_She looked at him with her blue eyes. "Wrong."_

"_I'm not wrong."_

"_You are."_

_He inhaled deeply through his nose and let it out. "How am I wrong? You're not real. You're dead and I'm dreaming which means you're in my head which means you already know the answer. So let's cut to the chase and you just tell me what it is."_

_She laughed again. "So because you're lucid dreaming, I'm just supposed to tell you- what fun is that?"_

"_Because I'm tired of playing this game, " he ground out._

_Amber looked at her hands in her lap and then looked up at him seriously. "It's not a game."_

"_Then what is it?"_

_Amber placed her hand on his arm. Her hand felt cold on his skin and he closed his eyes. If she were alive she'd be warm. "House, you know what you need, you can see it right in front of you."_

"_What can I see?" he pressed._

_She sighed heavily, her breath absent on his skin. "You need to get off the bus, House."_

"_I'm not getting off until you tell me, " he shouted at her._

"_You need to get off the bus, House…"_

House woke up with a start. He closed his eyes and swallowed rubbing his face with his hand. Why couldn't she just leave him alone?

They were still on the couch and the fire was dying down. He glanced at the clock on the TiVo. It was 12:42AM. Cate slept soundly tucked up against his side and he let out a pleased sigh. Running his hand over her hair, he kissed her forehead and gently peeled himself away from her trying not to wake her. Carefully without pulling the blanket off of her, he held the corner over his lap as he sat up and placed his feet on the floor. He rubbed his face with his hand and pressed the heel of his palm against forehead in aggravation. What the fuck was going on with him? Why was he continuing to dream about Amber? What did all of this mean?

"_House, you know what you need, you can see it right in front of you."_

What was she trying to tell him? For that matter what was he trying to tell himself? Cate had said that Amber represented a part of his own psyche and that she was trying to get him to realize something. He just wasn't getting what that something was.

Frustrated, he rolled his head around to work out the kinks in his neck from sleeping on the couch. With his head back, he opened his eyes and they landed on the box of letters where he'd left them on the shelf. The letters… Cate had also said it was the letters. But that couldn't have been it? He didn't care what was in them. Did he?

With a wry little sigh he shook his head and resigned himself to the fact that she was probably right. He looked over his shoulder at her sleeping face. Her lips were curled in a secret little smile as she contentedly snuggled with the blanket he gave her. She was always right. So beautiful and always right. Damn her.

Reaching down to the floor his picked up his jeans and swallowed a Vicodin before putting them on. He rose as careful as his leg would let him without disturbing her. She stirred slightly and he watched her settle deeper into the warmth of the blanket before he limped over to the shelf and lifted the box. Situating himself on the curved chaise, he used the light of the fire to illuminate the inside of the box as he removed the lid and placed it behind him on the chair. He flipped through the letters from his father, John, and decided that he really had no need to know what he had to say to his mother. What he supposedly needed to know was in the letters from this guy named Paul Sheppard, Lt. USMC. He picked up the bundle tied with the green ribbon and something shifted in the box down to the corner almost causing the entire box to tumble off his lap and onto the floor. Readjusting the box without trying to make noise, he reached in a plucked out the small velvet box with a huge sigh. Opening it with a tiny creak, he stared at the gleaming contents. So this was why his mother really sent him the box of letters. Her clandestine purpose was to give him his grandmother's engagement ring with the added bonus of not having to explain to his face why he was the illegitimate child of a man who was not his father. This was her way of telling him what she wanted from him without really having to say it anymore than she already had. Sneaky, sneaky there Blythe…

Clamping the box shut in his hand, he pocketed the not-so-subtle hint and moved onto the real purpose of his quest. He placed the box onto the floor and untied the ribbon. Removing the first letter, he leaned a little more towards the firelight to read. _Fuck_. He needed his glasses. He could read shit. Irritated, he got up and padded into the kitchen to retrieve the evidence that his age was indeed catching up to him. Returning to the chair he sat down and set himself up by the firelight again to read.

_Dearest Blythe,May 5, 1958, Iwakuni, Japan_

_I wish that I had the opportunity to say goodbye to you before I was shipped out. The thought of you standing there at the officer's club waiting for me has played on my mind since I left. I apologize from the bottom of my heart. I never meant to hurt you. I miss you terribly. Your picture sits in my cockpit and I see your beautiful eyes gaze at me every minute that I fly. Please, take pity on this poor flyboy and find it in your heart to forgive me._

_Your humble servant,_

_Paul_

_P.S. Tell John for me that softballs are only called "soft" because they don't pitch them as hard. A line drive to the hand will still break bones. If he wasn't pitching a fit about the play at third, he'd be here with me like he was supposed to._

_Dearest Blythe,May 30, 1958, Iwakuni, Japan_

_The arrival of your letter today had me singing with joy. Some of the fellas ribbed me for being a sissy in love. I didn't care. Your words made me the happiest Joe in Japan. _

_We've been flying around the clock in training missions. It's rigorous work but well worth the effort if as we provide air support for out ground troops and ships. We've been training on the new F-4 Phantoms and boy are they sweet. They have this thing called afterburn. When I tell you it's fast, I feel like I'm flying with my hair on fire. _

_My darling I miss you so terribly. I have friends and guys that I've flown with for years, but it's not the same. I miss the talks we'd have in the night air about the books we've read or the movie we had just seen. The one thing I wish you could see here are the sunsets. They are so beautiful and I can't help but imagine you here with me. I could almost see the brilliant light reflected in your hair. I cannot wait until I'm home to touch the flame in your hair myself._

_Thinking of you always,_

_Paul_

_P.S. Tell John about the F-4's and that if he had any hair it'd be on fire too._

_Dearest Blythe,June 27, 1958, Iwakuni, Japan_

_Your letter today was just the inspiration I needed. I am going stir crazy here these last two months without you. I had hoped that I would be back in Virginia to see you for your birthday. It's not every day a woman turns twenty. I've enclosed a stem of pressed flowers for you. They are Biyou yanagi. The yellow sprigs remind me of fireworks. It's sappy and not very special, I know, but it's all I could do. I promise to buy you something real special when I return home. It will be something that you will remember for always._

_With love,_

_Paul_

_P.S. Tell John that the fourth of July fireworks would be a good opportunity to ask Mary Ellen Ford to go with him. She's a pretty girl and about his speed._

He folded the letter and replaced it into its envelope. The blossom was long gone by now but the mention of it in the letter made him recall the years they had lived in Japan. His mother would always have a vase filled with bright yellow flowers with arcing sprigs in the center that reminded him of fireworks. She used to pick them wild along the road that lead around base. He learned much later in a botany class they were called St. John's Wort. She apparently always loved the flower long after he had sent it to her.

_Dearest Blythe,July 20,__1958, Iwakuni, Japan_

_It breaks my heart everyday that I cannot be with you. The training is intense and we are hearing of rumblings in Communist China. Before long we will be given orders and the training will be put to some good use. Tell John that I am grateful to him for escorting you to your sister Sarah's wedding. I'm sure you were beautiful as her maid of honor. I can only dream that one day you will stand up with me and it will be our wedding. You are what keeps my spirits high and my drive to continue on. I so miss the scent of your hair and the feel of your skin. _

_All my love, _

_Paul_

_P.S. Also, tell John that he has to smile and dance a little if he ever wants a pretty girl to pay attention to him._

House chuckled at the last sentence. It sounded as if his father always had a stick up his ass. Even his friend knew it enough to tell from over five thousand miles away. He frowned as he skimmed back over the part about him wanting to marry his mother. This was in July of 1958 almost six months before his parents were married. His father had taken his mother to Aunt Sarah's wedding. Curious… maybe Old Dad didn't have such the stick up his ass after all.

_Dearest Blythe,August 16, 1958, Iwakuni, Japan_

_We have received orders. I am to fly a mission into Taiwan. The squadron leader says that the mission is a dangerous one and has requested that I fly as point. I am nervous but I feel that I am prepared. It's what every pilot here has trained for. I cannot tell you anything more than that but that I hope you'll pray for me and my squadron. I wanted to tell you that I love you. I have loved you since the very first minute I set eyes on your lovely face at the officers' club. I could never have dreamed that I could deserve you. I must be the luckiest guy in the world._

_Tell John it's been difficult here without my wingman and that I'll be back to fly circles around his grouchy six. You should know what that means by now and if you don't, make him explain it to you. It will make him blush. _

_I love you, _

_Paul_

There was only one letter left. Paul said that he loved her and he wanted to marry her but obviously that did not happen. She married his father instead. But somewhere along the line he had come back otherwise, he wouldn't be here. So what happened? Despite his best attempts at not being interested, he was quite intrigued. Never in his life did he think that his mother would have been a woman to be in love with more than one man at a time let alone have an affair in either direction. Did she leave Paul for his father and how come she stayed with him after she so obviously cheated on him while he was away in Okinawa?

Curious, he slipped the last letter out of its envelop. It was written in April of '59, three months after his parents were married. Hopefully this one had the answers he was looking for.

_Dear BlytheMay 6, 1959, El Toro, California_

_I know that I should not be writing this letter to you but I figure this is the least of my sins I have committed. You would not hear my words of apology the last time we spoke and I don't blame you for not wanting to see me but there are things that I have to say and that I need for you to know. I promise you after this, you will never have to concern yourself or live in fear that our secret will be revealed to John or to anyone. Your happiness means more to me than my own and I will do whatever it takes to ensure that happens._

_Blythe, you have to believe me when I say I never wanted things to turn out how they did on the night in Hawaii. I had told myself that you had to move on, that you did not love me anymore. You loved John and were his wife. But I was selfish. I was angry at him and the world that he had the one woman that I had ever loved. It didn't matter to me that you had thought for months that I was dead. It didn't matter one iota that you and he had grieved for me and thereby found solace in each other. My own selfishness and jealousy wouldn't allow me to see how difficult it had been for both of you over those months. All I could think about was what I had lost._

_When I saw you in Hawaii, my heart ached like it had never ached before. All of the love and emotion I had felt for you came flooding back to me and I had to be with you. Your beauty and the pain in your eyes broke my heart even more. I took advantage of your vulnerability. I used your loneliness and isolation from your family, your husband and your home to selfishly take what I wanted. You told me that you were a willing participant but I turned your unhappiness against you and make you betray your husband in an effort to rekindle a love that had died a long time ago. I willingly seduced you to my own end. It is a sin that has followed me since that night. I don't regret sharing that moment with you. What we were together was beautiful. What I do regret was that I didn't stop even though I knew it was wrong. _

_My greatest wish is not that you can forgive me, but rather that you will forgive yourself. You were never to blame. Don't ever tell John. He doesn't need to know. It will crush him. He's a good man and he loves you. I suspect he's loved you from the very beginning. He will be good to you and take care of you. He will give you everything you deserve._

_Be well, _

_Paul_

House reread the letter for a second time. She had thought that Paul was dead and found comfort… Comfort? In his father? That he found very hard to believe… How that man could provide comfort for anyone was mind boggling. He shook his head in confusion. His mother and father had both grieved for a friend and lover and ended up married. He could imagine the rage Paul felt when he came back, alive and well to find his best friend married to his girl. The betrayal and loss he must have felt was probably unreal, though Paul had said he suspected that his father had secretly pined for her all along. He shook his head. He, himself, always believed that his father loved his mother more and resented the fact that he had to share her with him. It was possessive and bordered on the obsessive at times.

House believed that his mother honestly grew to love his father. She was incapable of being with someone she didn't have feelings for. He knew how difficult the moving was for her, and the toll it took. She was lonely, away from her family and when faced with the man that she had loved once and lost, she succumbed to weakness and allowed herself to be seduced by him. He couldn't be angry with that. That was human.

Folding the letter, he placed it back into the envelop and removed his glasses. He rubbed at his tired eyes and sat for a moment absorbing all that he had read. He felt intrigued by what he'd learned. He held a new respect for his mother and saw her in a different light. She had committed herself to his father when she married him and she honored that. She could have just as soon left him for Paul, but she didn't. She chose to stay with the man she had married and raise another man's child under the guise that the baby was his. In 1959, it was the right thing to do and that took guts. She had always been strong and resilient. He supposed that resilience was what got her through. She had survived and endured just like he had always known her to. And now the war was over. His father was dead. He knew the truth. It was done.

Rising, he took the handful of letters and without a second thought, tossed them into the fire. He watched them singe and turn black as they were consumed by the flame. He went to reach for the letters from his father…

"What are you doing?"

His hand paused and he turned to look at Cate. She stared at him with panic in her eyes. "Greg, what are you doing?"

"I'm closing a chapter, " he said taking the pile out of the box. "I know the truth now. It's over."

Cate scurried off the couch, errantly wrapping the blanket around her as she hurried over to him. Her hair was a mess and she looked completely sexy all rumpled and well loved by him. "Why are you burning the letters?"

"Because I don't need them anymore, " he said simply. "I got what I needed from them."

"You read them all, " she asked looking at the empty box and then back at the stack in his hand.

"The ones that mattered."

"You didn't read the ones from your father, " she stated leveling her eyes seriously at him.

"I did read the ones from my father, my real father, " he told her. He held up the stack for her. "These mean nothing to me. I know John House loved my mother. I don't need to read it. I know that she chose him over my biological father. I know that she did it because it was the right thing to do. These letters won't change any of that. They won't change how he treated me just because he professed undying passion to my mother."

"No, it won't. But they may give you some insight into the man he was, the man you mother fell in love with, " she said. He stared at her and she challenged him with her eyes. "They may help you to understand who he was in his most private thoughts." She moved closer to him, touching her hand to his bare arm. "Think about how you are perceived. No one sees the side of you that I see. No one knows how tender and kind and how truly vulnerable you can be. Only I get to see that side of you. Do you deny the possibility that there may be a version of John House that you have no idea about?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes against her imploring ones. Her logic was flawless and it killed him to know that she was right. God damn it, she was right again. He held the stack out to her relinquishing them to her protection. She turned and placed them safely back in the box. Closing the lid she placed it back on the shelf and came to wrap him in the cocoon of her blanket pressing her warm smooth skin against his chest. He breathed in her intoxicating scent and let out a heavy sigh. Tipping her chin up he placed his lips to hers crushing her in a deeply passionate kiss. The feel of her breasts against his bare chest was making him wild with desire for her again. She was exquisite beauty in is arms the way she melted into his embrace. When he ended the kiss to suggest they take this to the bedroom, she rested her forehead against his chest and whimpered, "I can't believe you burned them before I got a chance to read them."

He let out a deep throaty laugh and ran his hands up and down her back. "Oh, so that's the real truth. You didn't want me to burn them so you could read them?"

She smiled coquettishly at him. "No. Yes. Maybe… just a little." She reached onto her tippy toes and kissed the spot where his jaw met his earlobe, effectively distracting him away from what he was thinking. "Regardless, I'm still right and you know it."

"I'll never admit it, " he said running his hands down her bare hips to the underside of her ass as he pulled her against his renewed hardness.

"By your denying it, you admit it by mere default." She teased his ear with her tongue as she worked the button from its hole in his jeans.

"If I could carry you, I'd throw you over my shoulder and take you to bed, " he informed her as she slid her hand around under the waistband of his jeans to cup his ass before sliding them down past his hips.

"Nah, " she cooed dragged him around the sofa as he cautiously stepped out of his pants. "You're gonna fuck me on the dining room table like you promised you would."

House nearly came right there mid stride at her bold directive. He practically growled out loud. _God, he loved this woman_. He would follow her to the ends of the Earth if she told him he had to. "At your service, milady. Anything your little heart desires..."


	69. Act IV Chapter 69: Arrival

Sessions Act IV: Chapter 69: Arrival

The bellman deposited their suitcases inside the entryway of the large aqua decorated room. As quietly as the young man came in, he exited, leaving Cate and House alone in the room. Cuddy and Wilson were two doors down from them on the same floor which was nice. They were close enough to be accessible but not too close to be "all up in House's grill" as he put it. Like an overgrown five year old, House dove onto the humongous four posted bed effectively bouncing up and down as he landed and then purposely bouncing a few more times to test the give of the mattress.

"Good spring back, " he announced. "Nice cushion for the pushin'."

Cate ignored him removing her long sleeved tee down to her tank top and deposited it on one of the dark teal cushioned chairs as she went to the balcony doors. Throwing them open, the ocean breeze swept around her into the room with the clean tang of salt in the air.

"My God, Greg, this view is amazing, " she called in to him as she stepped over to the railing of the small balcony that overlooked the crystal clear, azure colored ocean. "The water is so blue it doesn't even look real."

"Babe, you've got to come lay on this bed, " he called to her. "It's as big as a playground."

Chuckling, she pushed off the railing and went over to where he was on the bed. He stopped making bed angels and held his hand out for her to join him on the crisp white linen covered mattress. As soon as she kneeled on the edge, he pulled her down hard against his chest catching her off guard. She squealed in laughter when he kissed her neck tickling her with his scruffy beard as he blew raspberries against her sensitive skin. "I could stay in this bed the entire week for all I care so long as I have food, alcohol, Vicodin and you."

"Oh, I'm so glad I'm at least fourth on the list of necessities, " she joked slapping his chest playfully.

"You're my prisoner and sex slave, the other things are for mere sustenance, " he told her with a cheeky grin.

"That's all well and good but I didn't endure the pain of a Brazilian bikini wax just so I could admire the ocean from afar tied to my bedpost."

House groaned and swept his hands down the curve of her back to cup her backside. "Mmm, Brazilian. That is one of the hottest inventions ever. Can I see it again?"

"Not right now, " Cate giggled feeling herself blush as she was reminded of his explicit enthusiasm when he first laid eyes on the magic of the Brazilian wax. He had given her quite the explosive orgasm that night. Who knew his razor sharp tongue could be so sensuously agile and proficient?

He let out an exaggerated sigh at her denial and collapsed dramatically back against the pillows. "Fine. So, when do I get to see this hot little bikini you've been teasing me with," he asked lifting his arm back to rest his head on his hand.

Cate leaned over and placed a little kiss on his lips and then dragged her hand down the front of his ridiculous Hawaiian shirt waggling her eyebrows. "As soon as you get off your little pleasure palace here and put your own bathing suit on."

House pulled his leg up so he could swing it off the edge to place his feet on the floor. Poised on the edge of the bed, he tugged at the back of his shirt pulling it over his head and arms in one fell swoop and tossed it over to the corner by the TV credenza. "I suppose we should let Jimbo and Cuddles know we're going down to one of the bazillion pools this place has."

"Why don't you do that, " she suggested. "I'm going to call my father and let him know we landed ok."

She caught him rolling his eyes and when he realized he'd been snagged, he demonstratively pretended he had an eyelash stuck in one of them before he went to the large duffle bag he called a suitcase. "Sure, sounds like a great idea." He bent over to unzip the main compartment and she couldn't resist. She slipped off her little sneaker and chucked it at his butt hitting him square on the right butt cheek.

He stood bolt upright and twisted around to see her. "Hey, three inches to the right and that would have skimmed my thigh and then I would have had to kill you."

Cate chuckled. "I have good aim."

He eyed her. "Mark my words. There will be retaliation, woman."

Cate followed the instructions on the phone to place an international call and dialed her father's number. He picked up after only three rings. "Hi Dad…"

"_Hello Sweetheart, "_ his voice greeted jovially from the other end. _"How was your flight?"_

"Nice. I took a Xanax and slept for most of it, " she said.

"Yeah, she, who flew 9000 miles to the South Pole, forgot to mention that she gets freakishly panicky on airplanes, " House said loudly as he retrieved his bathing suit from the bag. "I still have claw marks on my forearms." He pointed at them showing her his superficial wounds yet again. She really didn't grab him that hard, he just wasn't paying attention and tried to yank his arm away. That was why she scratched him… It was an accident.

Her dad chuckled on the other end of the phone having heard House's complaining. _"Dr. Sunshine sounds like he's in rare form."_

"Oh, don't worry, that's him happy, " Cate joked with a laugh. "He took one of my Xanax and Vicodin with a handful of mini bottles; he's good to go for the rest of the afternoon."

"_How is that guy not dead yet?_" her father asked with an incredulous snort.

"I don't even know, " she said with a shake of her head. "So, we're here and this place is absolutely beautiful."

"_I'm sure it is."_

"The water is so clear you can see all the way down to the sand underneath, " she told him looking out through the balcony.

"_Your mother always wanted to go and this one time…_"

House chose to come out of the bathroom then, naked as a jaybird with a goofy, shit eating grin on his face. Cate choked back a chuckle and covered her face with her hand to keep from laughing as her father went on and on about the time he almost took her mother on a cruise for one of their anniversaries. Cate listened to him talk and focused her attention on her newly pedicured toe nails instead the incredibly sexy, naked man across the room. It felt so good to have her sneakers and socks off and not have her toes freeze for a change. Dad continued on and she intermittently added a "Yeah" and an "Uh huh," to appease him.

Unable to not seize this perfect opportunity, House laced his hands behind his head and danced his lanky naked body over to her jiggling and shimmying his hips so that his penis nodded up and down like a bobble-head doll. He looked insanely ridiculous and hysterically cute at the same time. Biting her tongue to suppress her laughter, Cate rolled her eyes closing them to zero in on what her father was saying. She was desperate to ignore the crazy man with the boogying penis who was now standing in front of her. She peeked out of the corner of her eye, to see if he was carrying on this absurd version of a burlesque show and she felt a new wave of giggles flow up into her throat. It was like watching a train wreck. He just kept moving. Dance, thump. Dance, thump. Jiggle, jiggle. Dance thump, jiggle, jiggle, jiggle. He limped around in a little circle and wiggled his butt cheeks at her shimmy shaking with his elbows bent and fists at his sides like he was Chubby Checker on crack. He bent over smacked his ass a couple times like a rodeo clown and rubbed it in little circles eyeing her over his shoulder with an exaggerated wink before thumping back around in a little circle again. She was mortified and intrigued simultaneously. Good Lord, she had no idea what her father was saying.

House refused to stop shimmying to the deranged music in his head. _Dance, thump, jiggle, jiggle_.

And her father wouldn't shut the hell up. He just went on and on. If he only knew…

And she couldn't laugh, because honestly… how does a thirty-nine year old woman explain to her father that she's in a fit of hysterics because her fifty-year old boyfriend is jiggling his penis and smacking his ass in front of her while she's trying to hold an intelligent adult conversation with him on the phone.

"_And your Aunt Ellie said that she's going to send you the recipe for the tiramisu…"_

_Is he kidding, with the tiramisu?_ She turned her head away to put him out of eye shot so she could end this humiliating phone call with her dad. But, House changed course to further taunt her. He was now grunting as he gyrated. She turned her head back to him to motion silently for him to stop and she gasped. She came face to head with the bobbing little House.

He tapped her cheek with the tip of his penis and she nearly snorted out loud like an elephant as House danced away triumphantly in a fit of stifled giggles. She rolled onto her side and squeezed her legs together so she wouldn't pee from trying to hold in her laughter so hard. Her eyes were watering and her lungs burned. She was going to kill him.

Taking a deep breath, she sat up and refused to look at him. Her voice came out strangled, no matter how hard she tried. "Dad, you know this is an international call right?"

"_I'm sorry, honey. It's just that everyone is going to miss you for Christmas and God only knows why but they wanted to meet Dr. Feel-Good._" Dr. Feel-Good was right. No more Xanax mixed with Vicodin for him.

"I know Dad, miss you too, and see you when we get back, " she said to expedite the end of the phone call.

It worked. "Love you, Catie Girl. Bye." _Oh, Thank God!_

"Bye Dad." She hung up the phone and burst out in hysterical laughter. "You mother-fucker!"

House laughed heartily now from where he stood. "Ha! I rubbed my penis on you and you couldn't do a damn thing about it because you were on the phone with Daddy. '_Daddy, House is rubbing his penis on me… Daddy make him stop!_'"

"You are such a child, " she complained. "I should have given you a ball tap."

"Sure if you want to keep me out of commission for the next couple of days, " he said stepping awkwardly into his bright yellow floral swim trunks. He almost fell into the corner post of the bed but righted himself at the last second.

"No, I'm sure the horse tranquilizers have that covered, " she said scooting off the bed to retrieve her own bathing suit.

He waved his hand at her. "Bah, that's nothing. Wait 'til we get the real Jamaican ganja. Now that's a good time."

Cate shook her head on a sigh. "I didn't bring any bail money with me, so you better hope they take credit cards here." He flopped down on the bed again presumably to wait for her to change. "Try not to slip into a coma okay?"

"I'm fine, " he whined. "Hurry up I want to see boobs in a bikini, let's go…"

There was a knock at the door.

"Naked. We're having sex, " he called extra loudly to the door.

"Fine, we'll knock again in thirty seconds, you should be done by then, " Wilson said through the door.

"At least that's twice as long as you, " he retorted and then laughed cracking himself up.

Cate leaned out of the bathroom and pulled the door knob to open the outer door. If she had a twenty for every time she's seen that particular look on Cuddy's face, she'd be able to buy herself a new pair of Jimmy Choos… "Welcome to my insanity. Do come in…"

Cuddy was dressed in a sophisticated red bikini that was fastened in the middle with a thick gold ring and a deep rust and gold colored sarong with a pair of matching espadrilles. She carried a woven beach bag over her should and held her large straw sun hat in her hand. Wilson, on the other hand, looked like and old Jewish man waiting to go play Canasta on the lanai. He walked into the room with his electric blue pattern on pattern leisure shirt over his matching light blue swim trunks. Not to mention, the beige socks and boat shoes. Very attractive…

Cate looked at Cuddy. "Is he serious with that get-up?"

"Don't even get me started, " she growled under her breath crossing her arms. "I think he's having cocktails with my Uncle Morty before dinner."

House bust out into a peel of laughter as he caught sight of Wilson. "Hey Frankie, where's Annette?"

"Hey, you ready to catch some rad waves, man? Oh wait, whooaa that's right, you can't even stand on the board, total bummer, dude, " Wilson retorted.

Cate closed the bathroom door and finished changing leaving the exchange of insults. She examined herself in the mirror. Adjusting the edges of her chocolate brown, turquoise and white patterned halter bikini, she gave herself the once over tilting her head. Shaking her boobs into the cups of her top and adjusting them to give her ample cleavage, she paused. She looked good and curvy. About ten pounds heavier than when she came back from the South Pole but that was entirely Penis Boy's fault. He kept throwing those freaking _Drake's Funnybones_ into the shopping cart every time they went to the store. She couldn't get him to stop. Nor could she seem to come up with good reason to turn them down every time he brought them out to her while they were watching TV at night. She'd be two hundred pounds by next Christmas if she kept it up. Leaning into the mirror she ran her fingers over the dark circles under her eyes. She looked tired. Hell, she was tired, flying was not her forte and her Xanax apparently hadn't worn off yet. Whatever… she thought as she twisted her hair up into a bun and clipping it in a large jaw clamp.

Cate opened the door and sauntered back into the room.

"More boobies, " House broadcasted to the room standing dead center with his arms open wide.

"Don't let him have Xanax any more, " Cuddy ordered wearily. Cate rolled her eyes as she grabbed her canvas beach tote and sandals.

"Oh she didn't let me have these, I took them out of her purse when we were on the long ass bus ride from the airport and then again while we were checking in, " he admitted with an overstated shrug of remorse.

"Greg…"

"House…"

"Well, that certainly explains a lot, " Wilson said with his hands on his hips.

"Hey! Don't take them all, I need those for the plane ride back home, " Cate said as she wrapped her white beach wrap around her hips.

"Never mind that he's mixing Vicodin with another CNS suppressant, " Cuddy said throwing her hand up in the air. "He could stop breathing. Should we give him crack while we're at it?"

Cate clucked her tongue at her. "Please, if he needed to be somewhere and refused to go, you'd be the first one to dose him with benzodiazepine."

"Yeah, what she said, " House interjected and held his hand up for a high five. "That's my girl…"

"Hey Forest Gump, you wanna find your sandals, " Cate turned on him ignoring his outstretched hand. "Momma got you the big boy ones with Velcro."

"Did you bring the swimmies, because he might drown… _with a little help, _" Wilson added sarcastically under his breath.

House pushed his feet into his Tevas and fastened the Velcro before pulling his white t-shirt over his head. It had some kind of skulls and embellishment design on it and Cate thought he looked really sexy if not boyishly handsome in his surfer dude attire. Cuddy and Wilson moved to the door leading their party out into the hallway. Cate passed by House on her way and he wrapped his arms around her pulling her into a bear hug stopping her progress before she reached the door. He buried his face in her neck and sniffed her skin. Her neck tingled and sent little currents down to her toes.

"I love you, " he whispered into her hair.

She melted into him and ran her hands up and down his back. "I love you too."

He pulled back and looked her in the eyes, a sly grin on his lips. "Can I put my face in your boobs?"

Cate laughed and slapped his shoulder. She was about to tell him 'no way' but he tilted his head to the side and begged with his big ice blue puppy-dog eyes. "Ok fine…"

Like a kid in a candy store, he burrowed his face into her cleavage and inhaled deeply letting out a big flutter between her breasts. She screamed in laughter and pushed at him ineffectively trying to move him out.

"Yes!" He raised his head in victory. "Gotta love bikini boobs." He slid his sunglasses over his eyes and slapped her butt. "Let's go… people are waiting, you're delaying pool time…Jeez…"

Cate smiled and collected her things shaking her head. _Oh, this trip was going to be a ride and a half…_


	70. Chapter 70: Water Therapy

Sessions Chapter 70: Water Therapy

"Look at the two of them, " Cuddy said tipping her chin in their direction. "They look like two old men sitting there at the bar." House and Wilson were perched on tiled barstools at the swim-up pool bar.

"It's quite literally a watering hole, " Cate declared, amusing herself if nothing else. Cuddy did laugh a musical little chuckle before letting out a contented sigh. "What do you suppose they talk about for so long?" Cate sat next to Cuddy on one of the lounge chairs by the secluded pool. They had decided as a group, with the fervent encouragement of House, to escape the crowds of doe-eyed honeymooners and anniversary vacationers at the large main pool and find refuge at the less populated one toward the back of the resort.

"Beats me, I've never gotten anything more than a really long-winded comment about my tits from him, " she said leaning her head back against the pillow on the chair. "Unless of course he wants to do a brain transplant or something equally as ludicrous."

"He is capable of normal conversation, although sometimes the drunker he is the better, " Cate told her.

"Then they must be having a doozy, " she laughed this time amusing herself. "House is as high as a kite."

Cate grinned thinking about his little bare-assed party dance. She should care that he was intoxicated but she didn't. _God she was such and enabler…_ _whatever, he was on vacation and he was happy; that's all she cared about_. Pushing her self-deprecation to the side, she peered over at his companion. "Wilson looks a little toasted himself."

Cuddy looked up and shielded her eyes from the sun to see him. "Oh, yeah… he's got that stupid smirk he gets on his face and look, he's giggling like a little girl. He's definitely wasted."

"They've been sitting there for almost two hours, " Cate said looking over the rim of her sunglasses.

"It's a good thing the pool's only four feet deep, " Cuddy replied. "I wonder if anyone's ever fallen off one of the bar stools back into the water and needed to be pulled out because they were so drunk?"

Cate laughed. "Now that's just embarrassing. 'Yeah, I uh, got so drunk a lifeguard had to pull me out of a four foot pool and give me mouth to mouth'. Not a shining moment to remember on a honeymoon."

"Let's just pray the first one isn't one of ours, " Cuddy stated.

"I'll toast to that, " Cate said holding up her plastic pina colada glass. Cuddy clunked the side of her strawberry daiquiri against hers and took a sip through the bendy straw.

"Ladies, can I get you another round of drinks, " their new best friend in a blue polo shirt and white shorts came over and asked them pleasantly. His skin was as dark as the richest chocolate and his voice as velvety smooth. His Jamaican accent made both of them glow involuntarily each time he came to ask them the same question.

Cate smiled up at him brightly. "You most certainly can."

"Strawberry daiquiri and a pina colada coming right up."

"Oh and, " Cuddy stopped him and added a demure smile, "Can you ask him to put a little banana piece on the side like he did the other one. I like that."

"Of course, " he replied elegantly and then disappeared past a table to clean up two empty glasses before making his way down to the patio side of the bar.

Cate leaned her head back and adjusted herself against the chair. "I could get used to this so fast."

"Please, we've only been here a few hours and I'm already used to it, " Cuddy murmured. "I don't think I can ever go back home."

They sat in silence enjoying the warmth of sun on their faces. This had been their routine for the past few hours they'd been here at the pool. The guys had immediately perched themselves at the pool bar while they had found the Cadilac of all lounge chairs poolside with a good view of their boys. It was a tandem thing that was almost the size of a double bed with a thick chair pad and pillows for each of their heads. It felt like lying in the golden sunlight on a cloud.

After they'd rubbed on sunscreen, they talked about nothing in particular and then grew silent as they baked for a while in the hot Caribbean sun. When it got too hot, they jumped in the pool to cool off and then returned to their chair to dry off again. It was one of the best days either of them had spent in a long time. The fruity drinks were in endless supply delivered by a dark chocolate stud in tight white shorts. Could it get any better than that? The whole scenario made for an extremely relaxing start to their vacation.

"I was surprised when James said that House had bought tickets to come here, " Cuddy interjected randomly, gently startling Cate from her daze.

"I was surprised myself, " she told her as she opened her eyes slightly.

"What do you think made him do it, " she asked curiously. "This is not exactly his kind of place."

"Honestly, " Cate began, "I think his sole motivation was to avoid having to spend Christmas at my Aunt Ellie's house."

"Why, he had such a good time with everyone on Thanksgiving, " she asked.

"We'd have to go to her house in Philly with all of my cousins and my big Italian Uncle Paulie," Cate explained. "I think it took my dad something like five years to get used to the huge Italian Christmas when he married my mother. Irish cop from that side of town in an Italian family, it's a bit of an adjustment. Now forty years later… he's just as much a part of it as any of them."

"Yeah, can't really see House warming up to that anytime soon, " Cuddy agreed.

"So between that and Cameron made a stupid bet with me that he wasn't going to get me a gift, " she said. "I think he wanted to rub it in her face. To prove something."

Cuddy let out a little sigh. "Yeah that definitely sounds more like him. They have this weird thing that she needs to get over. It's keeping her from completely committing to Chase. And that's just sad for both of them."

Cate frowned and looked at House across the pool on his little blue stool. His back was to her and he was leaning on his elbows on the bar. He had a beer in his hand and he looked… relaxed. He did still have a little of the Xanax running through his system but she didn't think that was solely the reason. He was enjoying himself. She wondered how much of that 'weird thing' he still needed get over. "Why do you think he never made a move on her?"

Cuddy lolled her head to her side to look at her. "Because she was naïve and star struck. And he can never handle anything remotely close to emotional. He seems reckless and impulsive but he doesn't make decisions lightly. I think he didn't want to hurt her or be hurt by her."

"Yeah, I've gotten that much out of what little he's said about it. I guess I've always wondered how she really feels about my being with him. Sometimes I feel like there's this undercurrent of resentment, " she told her companion. "She hides it well, but I see it sometimes in her eyes when I talk about him. I don't think she means it, but it's there."

"Oh, I don't deny it. I've seen it too, " Cuddy agreed. "She's been in love with him since day one. I think she's accepted that it will never be, even way before you came along, but the hope is still there, the dream of that naïve, star struck little girl that one day he'll change his mind."

Cate felt idiotic but she said it any way, "You don't think…"

Lisa reached out her hand and clasped her fingers. She squeezed them tightly and lovingly. "I've known him for twenty years. I knew him when he was with Stacey. And I've been through the worst with him. Believe me when I tell you that I've _never_ seen him the way he is when he is with you. When he falls, he falls hard. That man is hard core in love with you."

Cate felt herself smile big and broad. She brought her hand up to her lips and grinned like a giddy school girl behind her knuckles. She knew how much he loved her; she had felt it everyday in his embrace and in his eyes. It just felt really incredible to hear someone else, someone who knew him, declare it like that, reaffirming what she already knew in her heart to be true. "Sometimes I'm just afraid it's all a dream and then I'm going to wake up and still be in the South Pole."

"Not going to happen, " Cuddy affirmed. "You my dear are stuck with him."

Cate chuckled. "I guess it's a cross I have to bear."

"Yeah, because no one else in their right mind would touch that one with a ten foot pole, " Cuddy said.

"Except Cameron…"

"Except Cameron…"

They both laughed and were chuckling as the pool server brought them their drinks. "The gentlemen at the bar said to tell you that these are from them and they'd like for you to join them at the bar."

Lisa made a face of mock astonishment. "Such big spenders…" The drinks were after all part of the all-inclusive tag on the bill…

Cate grinned raising her glass toward the guys n the pool. "Tell them that it's going to take more than some fruity drinks to get us over there." She took out the umbrella and stowed it in her hair bun to meet the other three she had in there. Their messenger left them to deliver his communication with a little chuckle.

"Do you think James feels the same way about Amber?" Cuddy asked in an uncharacteristically small voice. "I mean, the way Cameron can't let go of House."

Cate softened her gaze and removed her sunglass to look at her friend. She could see how this had been a secret insecurity niggling at her giving her doubts. Any rational woman would feel the same way wondering how they stood up to the literal ghost of the last woman her lover truly, deeply loved. "First of all, Amber is dead and gone. It was tragic and it hit him hard but I believe that he's worked through his grief and has put that part of his life behind him." Cuddy looked at her with big gray eyes, her uncertainty evident in their steely depths. "Second of all, from what Greg says, and you know he's a self-proclaimed expert on everything, he believes that you are Wilson's Coyote."

"What?" Cuddy asked with a confused chuckle. "What does that mean?"

Cate laughed remembering the conversation she and House had one lazy afternoon after watching Animal Planet _after_ watching the movie, _Coyote Ugly_. _It was a dull Saturday…they were bored; what more could she say?_ "Coyote's mate for life; he said that either, you're his Coyote for life or you're one of those one night stands where he wakes up and wants to gnaw his arm off rather than waking the person up as he makes an escape."

Cuddy snorted. "That's nice."

Cate laughed at the expression on her face. "He actually believes that you are the fourth and final Mrs. Wilson. And from what I can tell, being a trained psychiatrist, Wilson not only has put Amber behind him but has invested himself completely in you. He truly loves you and is committed to only you."

It was Cuddy's turn to smile like a teenager. She grinned from ear to ear as she looked out to the pool area at her inebriated beau. He was indeed smirking and giggling like a girl. He had this goofy expression on his face and Cate could see from here that his one eyelid hung lazily lower than the other. He might just be the one to be rescued from the depths of the four foot pool. Her beau on the other hand was fairing much better, but it was no secret that he wasn't a lightweight when it came to holding his alcohol.

Cate shook her head as she watched House push himself off of the barstool backwards into the water like a seal. He sank below the water letting it swirl around his head as he sat his butt down to the bottom of the pool. He stayed under the surface for a bit treading underwater before placing his feet onto the tile and propelling himself upward and out with a big splash. He wiped at the water running over his face from his hair and then dove forward in an arch swimming to the edge of the pool this time like a porpoise. Using the buoyancy of the water, he pulled himself out of the pool and onto the cement patio not as gracefully as the other's she'd seen but not too bad for a drunken guy with one good leg.

With his yellow and black flowered swimsuit plastered to his legs, he hobbled quickly over to her on the lounge chair. Water coursed from his body leaving dark stains on the concrete as he moved. She saw his intention in his eyes and immediately held her hands up to protect herself. Before she could stop him, he was over her and on top of her in the chair drenching her in the tepid water running in buckets from his swim trunks and torso. She screamed as he circled his arms around her pulling her against his cool skin and kissing her shoulder and then her neck with his wet beard. She might as well have jumped in the pool herself because she was now thoroughly soaked.

Wilson wasn't far behind him, though he was much kinder to Cuddy as he sat near her on the edge of the chair instead of on top of her. Cuddy leaned forward and draped her arms over his shoulder planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He whispered something in her ear that made him blush and giggle. Whatever it was, it must have been good because it made her bite her lip with a twinkle in her eye.

"He just told her he's gonna have to give her oral sex, because little Jimmy can't salute when he's had too much to drink, " House announced from his position on her shoulder.

"House, " Wilson protested nearly falling off the lounger because he swung is head too fast to the left.

"What, it's true, " he defended himself. "We were just talking about it at the bar." He shrugged innocently and then sat up patting Cate on her hip. He ran his hand over her belly tickling it with his water logged fingers. She felt a little flutter deep within her stomach as he slipped a finger just under the edge of her suit. It was so slight of move that it could almost have been a mistake but the deep shade of blue his eyes turned gave away what was running through his mind. Cate's pulse kicked up a notch and she was eager to find out just exactly was on his mind.

"It's almost five, " she said picking up her watch from her bag. "We should head back and get cleaned up for dinner."

House nodded imperceptibly at her, letting her know that he knew she'd gotten his subtle little hint.

Wilson went to stand but stumbled a bit righting himself on Cuddy's shoulder. She gave a resigned little sigh knowing that a nap was about as much action as she was going to get for a little while. "Shall we meet for dinner at seven?"

"Seven thirty, " House said. Cate held back her little smile and gathered her belongings in her bag. He used her towel to dry off his head and draped it over his shoulders like a cape. Cate handed him his sandals and he slipped them on without undoing the Velcro. He rose from the chair and held his hand out to help her up before he grabbed his cane that was leaning against the back of the chair. Ready to go, Cate laced her fingers in his free hand pausing to see if Cuddy was managing alright with Wilson. "Is he going to be ok?"

"Yeah, he's fine, " House said.

Cuddy waved at them to go. "Go on, we'll be alright."

That was all House needed to hear. He tugged on her hand practically dragging her onto the path that led back to their room. She had to skip a few steps to keep up with him because he was moving so fast. It appeared that soaking in the water for a couple of hours was like hydrotherapy on his leg. They made their way through the lush vegetation along the winding concrete path feeling the afternoon heat radiate from the stone and trapping itself under the canopy of trees. House stopped abruptly and pointed into an enclosed area with his cane. "Hammock, we'll have to check that out at some point. Good place for a nap."

Cate nodded, spying the double wide hammock nestled into a private little alcove of large, low lying palm fronds and bougainvillea. "Hmm, definitely." She chuckled to herself at his never ending quest to find hiding places to nap in. This place was full of them. He could have a secret nap in a new place practically every day until they left. The cool part was that he wanted her to join him. It would be like they were secret lovers sneaking of to a secluded spot to make out where no one would be able to find them. _Kind of exciting…_

They made it back and up to their room in a short amount of time. House stripped his wet bathing suit off immediately and dropped the trunks into the sink. While he was in the bathroom, Cate open the balcony doors to let the ocean breeze into the room again.

"I need you to hold me up in the shower, " he hollered out to her.

"What? Why?" she asked coming into the bathroom. He never asked for her to help him. And besides, he was moving like he had a new leg. She pulled her umbrellas from her hair and let down the mass of waves gently massaging her scalp with her finger tips.

"I'll wash your hair and rub your back and all your fun places, " he said with big eyes and an even bigger grin.

Cate shrugged; he just wanted her in there with him. "I have a better idea. Let's take a bath. The tub is huge, we'll both fit."

He shook his finger at her and smiled. "I knew you were more than just another pretty face." He leaned into the shower and turned on the hot water to fill the tub.

She peeled off her own bathing suit and added it to his turning on the cold water to rinse out the chlorine from the fabric. He loitered behind her for a bit and played with the travel sized bottle of shampoo on the counter. "Ooo, bubbles?" he suggested holding up the little bottle opening it and sniffing the contents, he rolled his eyes back in pleasure. "Mmm, Egypt. This is that stuff you used that night I came home late to find you in the bath."

"Yes, " Cate nodded taking the little bottle from his fingers and pouring the essential oils into the running water. The room immediately permeated with the exotic scent of jasmine, eucalyptus and sandalwood on the steam rising from the tub. She remembered that night. It was the first time she'd seen his scar and he had admitted his vulnerability about it. She smiled warmly to herself; they had come so far in such a short time since that night.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply immersing himself in the scent. "The center market really does smell like this. The spices and perfumes from all of the venders and shops mingle and hang in the air with, of course, the diesel exhaust and pungent stank of body odor, but… you get so used to that you begin to ignore it."

Cate chuckled as she brushed through her hair waiting for the tub to fill. "Scent is the strongest sense linked to memory. Babies exposed to certain scents during pregnancy show preference to them after being born."

"That's because the olfactory bulb is part of the limbic system, " he said as if he were instructing a class.

"Yes, Doctor, and it's directly connected to the amygdala and the hippocampus, both of which process emotion and associative learning, respectively, " she countered in the same tone.

"True Dr. Milton, but memories triggered from smells is a conditioned response, " he replied. "We smell something and automatically link it to the event, person or emotion adjacent to it. You could be having ice cream on a sunny day but if a garbage truck passes by and all you smell is rotten trash, then that's what you'll forever associate rocky road ice cream with."

Cate turned around and pointed her brush at him. "Alright smart ass, get in the tub."

"Yes, mistress, " he laughed. "Are you going to smack my ass with the brush first? I've been a bad, bad boy."

Cate tapped his butt check with the back end of her brush with a crack. He lurched forward and clutched at his reddening flesh hissing as he laughed, pouted and groaned at the same time. "Ouch. No more brush."

Cate rubbed the spot soothingly. "Damn I guess that means the riding crop is out for tonight then, huh?"

"I'm into kinky shit, but I think I live with enough pain to forgo the masochism. I've always been more of a Sadist."

"So I've heard, " Cate said reaching over to turn of the tap.

Gingerly, House sat of the edge of the tub easing onto the cold tile surface. He lifted his leg over the edge and placed it in the water as he swiveled around bringing his other leg in and then lowered himself into the bubbles. Settling himself down into the hot water, he inched back against the wall of the tub to give her room. She grasped onto his outstretched hand for support stepping in facing him as she nestled in between his calves and feet at the opposite side. Once she was settled into the water she ran her hands down the length of his legs up and over his knees to his thighs. He eyed her carefully but didn't stop her.

Only once, did he let her touch his bare scar with her fingers when they weren't in the throws of making love. Although, it did occur after a rather vigorous session and he was spent, but that wasn't the point. She was lying across his lower abdomen with her face by his hip. They were enjoying the after glow of their lovemaking, just enjoying each other's peace. His leg was exposed from under the bed sheet. Her face was mere inches from the jagged rough surface and her curiosity to feel the grooves under her fingers took over as she tenderly ran her pointer finger across the bumps and valleys. He quietly let her explore the deep shinny crevasses that bound his skin together where they had removed the dead muscle tissue. It wasn't so much the outer visual evidence of the surgery that he found so grotesque but the distinct flattening and atrophy of the muscles underneath the healthy skin that made his leg look so bad in his eyes. He was missing a large part of his quadriceps and it didn't look normal. There was no way it could. The skin had tightened over the absent muscle to form a series of deep valleys and bumps almost in the same way a mastectomy patient looked after surgery. Flat, scared and no longer as nature had intended.

But now as they sat in the large bathtub, she ran her hands over his thighs in soothing circles gently massaging the muscles to further relax him, not because he was tense or in pain but because she just wanted to make him feel good. That's what this trip was all about, after all. _Feeling good_.

"We should reserve an appointment at the spa for a couples' massage, " she told him. His head was leaned back against the wall and his eyes were closed as he enjoyed the ministrations of her fingers.

"Is that what you want to do?" he asked.

"Yeah, I haven't had a real massage in a very long time, " she said.

"Then we'll do that, " he replied. "Although I don't think I'll get my 'happy ending' here."

Cate rolled her eyes. "No, real spas don't give 'happy endings'." She slid her hand over his inner thigh and in between his legs wrapping her hand around his flaccid member. Despite the heat of the water, he began to grow as soon as she touched him. "I think you'll have plenty 'happy endings' this week to keep you satisfied."

He opened his heavily lidded eyes and gazed at her for a moment. With strength of his arms, he pulled her against his chest and held her up to straddle his lap. She could feel his arousal pressing against her core and she knew he wanted more. His eyes were a deep shade of sapphire that rivaled the ocean outside of their room. Cate thought back to what Cuddy had said to her by the pool. _When he falls, he falls hard. That man is hardcore in love with you…_ How could she ever think or doubt that he could change mind to leave her for Cameron. Not now, not ever. What she saw in his eyes was only for her and her alone.

Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, taking him deep inside her on a sigh of pleasure. Reaching his hand up, he cupped the side of her face with is hand as he pulled her down to kiss her thoroughly, awakening distinct feelings of desire and passion. They made love slowly and languidly in the swirl of heat and exotic scent rising from the water. Their skin was slick and soft from the essential oils as their hands roamed across the smooth plains of each other's body feeling and touching the already memorized landscape. Cupping her breasts in his hands, House pulled back to gaze at her with a renewed fascination. He stared openly at her for a brief moment and something Cate couldn't name passed through his eyes as he trailed his hands down her sides to her hips. He brushed his fingers briefly like a flutter across her abdomen and then pulled her back to him thrusting deeply into her with a searing kiss that made her cry out against his lips. God, she loved this man. No one had ever made her feel this cherished. The moved together in a rhythm that was all their own, slowly and exquisitely building the tension until it released itself in an explosion of ecstasy.

Cate rested her forehead against his and kissed him lovingly. She brought her hand to his face as they nuzzled each other's noses tenderly.

He opened his mouth to say something softly to her, "Cate, I…" He was cut off by the ringing of his cell-phone from his pants in the room.

_I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother_…

He closed his eyes again and shook his head on a laugh. "Wanna bet, Wilson's incapacitated and they won't be making it to dinner?"

Cate chuckled. "There's a good chance." She gazed into his eyes but they were different now, back to normal, clear blue, piercing. "What were you going to say before the phone rang?"

He shook his head dismissively. "Nothing." His hand brushed her hair off of her shoulder and he ran his palm down her arm with a little smile. "Maybe we should order room service and stay in for the night?"

Nodding her head, she leaned in and placed another kiss on his lips. "Sound like a plan to me."


	71. Chapter 71: Christmas Eve

Sessions 71: Christmas Eve

"_So you thought it was that easy? Just open the letters and mystery solved? Case closed?"_

_Amber stared back at him with her pale sapphire eyes. She had a perceptive smirk on her porcelain face._

_House threw his head back in utter frustration. This couldn't be. She was back. "Why are you still bothering me?"_

_Amber chuckled and turned her head slowly to look toward the front of the bus. "You still don't get it."_

"_Apparently not, if you're still here stalking me, " he ground out. Everything was tranquil and quiet, gleaming in the soft white light. Not an echo or sound could be heard._

"_You're not done yet, " she whispered to him. He shook his head and swallowed. She was annoying the hell out of him with this cryptic shit. But, truthfully, it wasn't her; it was his own brain and its cryptic shit confusing the hell out of himself._

"_Just out of curiosity, are you haunting Wilson too, because in case you've forgotten, you were his girlfriend, not mine, " he reminded her coldly. _

"_This is your dream. Isn't it always about you?" She arched her eyebrow at him questioningly._

_He shrugged and looked away. "So what now?"_

"_You're moving in the right direction, " she stated simply._

"_Yeah? Which direction is that?" he asked turning back to her._

"_Toward what you need, " she said._

"_What I need is for you to leave me alone."_

"_You need to open your eyes and see it, " she told him gently. _

"_See what? I don't know what you're talking about, " he said frustratedly._

"_You know, " she informed him. "You saw a glimpse of it today."_

"_What? What did I se…" He froze and looked at her curiously. She couldn't possibly mean… "Is that what this is about?"_

_Time slowed and he could hear his heart beat in his ears. She raised a finely sculpted eyebrow and smiled warmly._

_No. It couldn't be. All this time, that was what she was telling him? It had nothing to do with the letters at all? It had to do with…_

"_This is what you need, " she said, her voice full of compassion and knowledge. "It's time."_

_He sat in silence, the gravity of understanding washing over him. What she was telling him was terrifying. He looked at her for confirmation and she nodded her head reassuringly. She was meant he was right._

"_Goodbye, House, " she said._

"_Goodbye, Amber."_

_House walked off the bus for the last time._

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House sat alone on the veranda of the hotel's large dining room overlooking the ocean. It was early and the morning air was cool and damp even for the tropics. The chill fit his mood. He sipped at his cup of Jamaica Blue Mountain coffee savoring the bold bitter taste of the beans as it went down his throat. It was much stronger than his usual taste unless of course Foreman was making it, but that too seemed to be in line with the wake up call he'd received from Amber last night. Thinking about the coffee, he briefly wondered what the team was doing. Did they have a case? Were they being their usual idiot selves and killing the patient? Plucking his cell phone out of his pants, he dialed the office number.

"Why are you calling?" Foreman shouted at him from the phone receiver.

"It's seven-thirty in the morning, " Kutner exclaimed.

"Is everything ok, " Thirteen asked.

"Is Cate alright?" Taub practically demanded.

Obviously they had him on speakerphone. He imagined them all leaning in to the phone on the conference room table.

"Mom, are you there too?" he said facetiously.

"Really, why are you calling? You're on vacation, " Foreman needlessly reminded him.

"I know. I'm sitting here in the land of your peeps, we've been feelin' alright without you, mon, " he mocked in his best Jamaican accent. He could practically see Foreman's eyes roll through the phone. "Mommy's worried about the little ducklings, so Daddy's just checking in. And since the babysitter's are here with us, we're afraid you're trashing the house and throwing a big kegger." He ran his thumb over his brow and frowned at his own lie. He would never admit that he was concerned about them without him. Or that he kind of missed them. _Maybe for like, two seconds…. If that._

"House, it's Christmas Eve, " Kutner stated. "Nothing's going on here."

"People don't stop dying just because it's Christmas? Quick, somebody read him _A Christmas Carol_ and don't give it away that little Tiny Tim's going to die."

"Seriously, House, nothing's going on here, " Taub said.

"Hey, nobody let Kutner decorate the office with all of that merry ho ho ho crap did they?" he asked remembering their first year together when he entered an office and nearly choked on a piece of tinsel because it was decorated to the nines by ten little Indian Christmas elves. _Oh wait, wrong kind of Indians…_

"No, no Christmas fun happening here as ordered, " Foreman said with a trace of a laugh in his voice.

House raised his hand in an air fist bump as if he could really see him. "Way to keep it real, homie."

"Is Cate there, I want to say hi to her, " Thirteen asked.

"Call on your own time, " he said and then rolled his eyes, somehow feeling like a dick. He changed his tone. "She's still sleeping." _In fact, she'd probably sleep for a quite while._

"Oh, " she sounded disappointed.

"I'll tell her you want to talk, " he murmured begrudgingly.

"How is it down there?" she asked him and he could visualize her big eyes alight with excitement.

"It's nice, " was all he could really elaborate on. "Blue water. White sand. Hot sun."

"Babes in bikini's," Taub chimed in.

"Way to be married there, Philanderer, " he said.

"I can still appreciate with the eyes, just not the hands anymore, " Taub defended himself.

"Or you do as long as wifey doesn't find out, " he replied knowing that the little man was bristling under the collar of his starched oxford shirt. "Oh, but that's right, you don't do that anymore."

"Did you go out and get the good Jamaican ganja yet?" Kutner asked with a chuckle.

"You're an idiot, " that was Foreman.

"Yeah, everyone knows you don't talk about it over the phone, " that was Thirteen. "Besides this is House we're talking about. He probably was hooked up at the airport."

"Glad to hear you all have such a high opinion of me, " he retorted. "Foreman, pick up the phone."

He could hear the rustling of the receiver being picked up and brought to his colleague's ear. "What?"

"There's really no patient?" he asked.

"No, " he said and House could recognize the truth in his voice.

"You promise to call if there is, right?"

Foreman snorted. "No." And then laughed. "Why? So you can do something stupid and come home. No way. I'm not going to be responsible for that."

House rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna come home, " he muttered and then paused on a sigh. "I'm in it for the duration."

There was a shuffle on the other end. "You alright?"

"Yeah, fine." He was. Really. That was the odd part.

"Alright then." Foreman said. "See you when you get back."

"Yeah, " he clicked the phone shut and tossed it on the table. He had two more things he needed to check for tomorrow that he figured he'd take care of now while everyone was asleep and then he'd go back to wake up Cate and see if 'the Wilsons' wanted breakfast. Tapping his fingers on the arm rest of his chair, he let out the breath he was holding in his chest to the staccato rhythm ending on a long gush of air. He picked up his phone and made a call.

"_Hello…"_

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After a day of the beach and surf, House and Cate had returned to shower and change before dinner. They weren't meeting until 8:00 for dinner so he had made true on his promise and found a secluded spot for a nap. House's eyes were closed and he was enjoying the gentle sway of the hammock as Cate napped silently on his chest. This was really something he could get used to. Napping in a hammock under the trees with the woman he loved tucked up against him. That is if he had a yard to put it in, otherwise it'd be like the tree fort built with a blanket and pillows from his mother's sofa when he was six. Nevertheless, it was nice. No one to bother him, private and secluded, warm and airy. Too bad he couldn't simulate this environment somehow at the hospital. But then again, he'd never get any work done.

He chuckled to himself. He remembered a question Cate had asked him during his first session with her way back when. _What five things would he bring to a deserted island?_ He remembered first he'd said Vicodin, repeatedly. And then with more elaboration he had said his piano, guitar, Xbox, his TiVo and his PSP. She had turned it into some kind of underlying meaning that he purposely isolated himself from people because of losing Wilson. Well, irony of ironies, here he was in on this island, albeit not deserted, with Wilson, and Cuddy and Cate. He was with the three most important of the people who had somehow wormed their way into his life. Cate being the exception, because he had actually invited her in, although she kind of snuck up on him and made him fall in love with her when he least expected it. He wondered if she had the chance to go back and do it all over, would she chose him again? Or knowing what she knows now would she have run for the hills? He hoped not.

And him for that matter… What would he say if she asked him that question now? _What five things would he bring to a deserted island? _He knew the answer. The very first thing would be her. Then, everything else wouldn't matter so long as he she was with him.

She stirred against him causing the hammock to swing in a deeper arch as she nuzzled against his neck. Like their contented cat who was staying by Thirteen, much to Foreman's dismay, she purred seductively and ran her toes up the length of his shin and knee curling her leg around his hip.

"What are you thinking about, " she asked sleepily into his t-shirt.

"What five things would you bring to a deserted island?" he said causing her to laugh.

"Do _you_ count?" she asked placing her palm against his and lining her long fingers up with his.

He chuckled. "I'm a given."

"Um okay then, number one thing, cases of toilet paper."

He full out laughed. "Toilet paper?"

"Yes, toilet paper. I have to have toilet paper and a razor, " she added vehemently. "I can't do that whole au natural thing."

"How ever did you survive in Antarctica?" he asked continuing to chuckle.

"Barely, I told you it was horrible. It was so cold I couldn't even shave my legs, absolutely disgusting, " she complained. "It's just another reason why I hated that place. If it was research on a tropical island then that would have been a whole different story."

"You're creature comforts are unparalleled, " he joked. "Ok, so that's two. What else?"

He could feel her thinking. She paused for a little bit and then spoke. "My dad."

"Aww, come on, " he scoffed. "We're stuck on a deserted island with your dad? Welcome to my nightmare."

She chuckled and rubbed her thumb along the length of his in long feather light strokes. "Ok fine, a cell phone with a charger so I can call him."

"Theoretically, if we had a cell phone and could make calls out, wouldn't we be rescued?"

Her thumb stopped. "Hey, I gave you unlimited electricity remember? It's either the cell phone or my dad?" she gave him the ultimatum.

"Fine. Cell phone." He could feel her smile triumphantly against his chest and she continued her tracing of his thumb with hers. "Next?"

"I think I'd want our bed and the cat, " she said with an air of assertion to her voice.

"That's it?" he questioned.

She shrugged. "Yeah. Those are the most important things to me. I don't need anything more than that."

"Basically, you'd want everything we have at home, here?" he reiterated.

"Yeah, " she said simply.

"You wouldn't want anything more? " he asked carefully.

"No, " she stated. "Why?"

He frowned and worked his eyebrows. He wanted to ask her more but he was afraid to push a topic that he wasn't quite ready to get into yet. He had such a tenuous hold on it himself that he knew he couldn't have a conversation with her about it now anyway. So he did what he did best and deflected.

"The sun is getting low," we should go find Cuddy and Wilson and do dinner."

She had gotten so used to his deflections that she simply agreed and moved to get out of the hammock. House mentally shook his head. _Good God, he was pathetic… and she was an idiot for putting up with him._

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The foursome had spent the better part of the evening at the resort's Reef Terrace restaurant enjoying the sunset and ocean breezes throughout their dinner. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon and the rising moonlight skated across the ripples in the ocean like a million twinkling lights. It was apropos being as though it was Christmas Eve and they were sans a tree to provide the traditional sparkling drops of light.

House had thought of some Christmas Eve's past since his infarction and was undeniably aware of how vastly different this one was. It wasn't just because they were here in a topical island. Rather more because he was not alone, drunk and high on the sofa, just wishing it to be the New Year so he could carry on with his life without all of the hypocritical festivities. This one however, didn't have his skin crawling with loneliness, anger and self-pity. No, this one was shaping up to be one of the Christmases he wasn't soon going to forget…ever.

They had all eaten well and had shared a bottle of wine at dinner and were now onto after-dinner drinks. And he was a pleasantly inebriated. Cate had moved on to tea, claiming a bit of a headache from the day of sun and 'the Wilsons' were gushing over some kind of coffee liquor while he stuck with his staple of bourbon. His hand warmed the liquid in his glass as he held it on the edge of his wrought iron arm chair. Cate had slid her chair over to his side of the table and was leaning in toward him. He had laced his fingers through hers and held her hand casually on his lap as they talked. She had wrapped herself in a loose white shawl to keep warm against the cool ocean breeze that playfully blew at the open collar of his shirt. Her face radiated with the tinge of sun kissed bronze and her hair fell in lovely waves around her shoulders. She _was_ beautiful indeed. She absolutely glowed. That very thought made him smile as he sipped the rich amber liquid. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them tenderly.

"I think we should go on one of the outside tours they have, " Wilson announced cheerfully bringing him back from his thoughts.

"Oh, definitely," Cuddy agreed without much persuasion at all. "Some of them seem really fun."

"What did you have in mind, " Cate asked.

"They have horseback riding, jungle safaris, snorkeling, Dunn's River Falls, " Wilson listed excitedly.

"Oh sure, all of which the cripple guy can't do, " House said making a face at him.

"There's a whole list of others, " Cuddy said. "Those are just a few examples."

"Of more things I can't do, " he repeated.

"You're not incapable; you ride a motorcycle. They have ATV tours, " Wilson argued.

House shook his head. "I ride on flat pavement. No chance of getting stuck in the mud on a thousand pound vehicle. No thanks."

"There's a scuba pool for diving on the other side of the resort, " Wilson suggested.

Cuddy nodded. "Or we could do a snorkeling cruise."

House snorted. "There's no way you could dive. Your boobs are too buoyant. You'd never get below the surface."

Cuddy made a face at him and Wilson's eyes narrowed to slits and threw his hands up in defeat. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

House laughed. "It's just so easy. I can't help myself." He glanced at Cate out of the corner of his eye. She had her lips pursed like she was trying to hold back a grin. He sipped his bourbon. "I don't want to do anything."

"But that doesn't mean you guys shouldn't do something, " Cate offered, gently squeezing his hand. "We don't have to go with you."

"I'm sure there's something we could all do together, " Cuddy replied sipping her coffee.

"We'll see, " Cate said effectively dismissing the idea. She finished the last of her tea and placed the china onto the table with a yawn. "I think I'm going to go back and lie down. You guys stay and enjoy the night air." She rose and took his face in her hands as she bent to kiss him. He hands were a little cool and he could tell she wasn't feeling well.

"I'll go back with you, " he told her rubbing his hands on her arms.

She smiled tiredly. "No, you stay and finish you're drink. I'm fine."

Wilson rose. "I'll walk you back. I'm feeling a little tired myself." He bent to kiss Cuddy and then came around the table to place his hand in the small of Cate's back. If it were anyone else, House would have cracked him on the knuckles with his cane for touching her. They waved good bye and walked off of the terrace onto the pathway that lead back to the rooms.

House sipped his drink and stared out to the inky waves as they came in crashing softly on the beach. He was avoiding Cuddy's eyes. She was staring at him like she was inspecting him. "Out with it."

She laughed, caught in the act. "What?"

"You have something you want to say, " he told her. "So spit it out."

She shook her head and sipped her coffee eyeing him over the brim of her cup. "This looks good on you."

He stared at her. She was grinning, her eyes bright with meaning. "What does?"

"This dirty little secret your hiding, " she whispered.

He looked at her pointedly. She couldn't possibly know, could she? He hadn't even told Wilson what he'd been thinking. "What secret?"

"Oh don't play innocent with me." She waved her hand at him. "I've known you too long."

He shrugged playing along. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You are smitten, my friend, and it's turned you into a real boy, Pinocchio, " she said with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah, " he questioned with a laugh of his own.

"Yeah. You've calmed down. Don't get me wrong. You're still an unmitigated ass, " she said. "But, there's a peace to you that hasn't been there since…"

"Since Stacey, " he finished for her. He grimaced at his own tone, it tasted bitter coming out.

She shook her head. "No. Since college."

He looked at her confused. "College?"

"Yeah, " she replied. A wistful look came over her face as she thought back to the year they'd spent at Michigan together. "You were a legend."

"I still am, " he replied.

She slid him a sidelong glance, "Yeah maybe in your own mind… No you were the guy everyone had to catch up to, that everyone wanted to beat. But no one could, because you were brilliant. You still are, now you're just insane."

"Is there a point to this trip down memory lane, " he asked.

She frowned at him and was quiet for a second. When she spoke, her voice was soft. "I was attracted to the shine of your brilliance, because you fly by the seat of your pants and make the rules up as you go, because… I could never be that way. You took joy in what you did. Every once in a while, I see it in you when you're on the trail of a lead with a patient. But, I see it _all of the time_ when you look at her. She excites you, she calms you. She brings you balance. It's corny and you're going to make fun of me, but she completes you."

He didn't laugh at her. Instead, his breath caught in his throat and he swallowed hard. He lowered his eyes to his hands holding his drink and he nodded. "I'm going to need your help…" he said.

"Anything, " she said her eyes serious.

He told her. Everything.

When he was finished, she swiped at a tear falling from her eye. "Of course I will."

He nodded again. "Thank you."

She smiled back at him and reached her hand across the table to squeeze his hand. "Tell Wilson, ok?"

"Tell him, I can't wait to get back to the room to wake him up, " she said with a laugh. "I actually know before he does?"

"Yeah, " he said unfolding himself carefully out of the chair. She stood and impulsively put her arms around him in a hug. He held her back and remembered the last time she had given him a genuine hug when those idiots thought he had brain cancer two years ago. Not one to endure a tender moment, he slid his hands down to cup the underside of her butt. She pulled back immediately with a quizzical look on her face.

"House?"

He smirked lecherously. "What? One last hoorah?"

"No." She smacked at his arms trying to struggle out of his embrace.

"Fine." He laughed.

"You're still and ass."

"You're still a piece of ass."

She smiled a little smile, pleased that he had just complimented her, even if it was disguised as an insult.

_He may be more balanced, but some things will never change…_

_A/N: Mystery will be solved in the next chapter. Stay tuned kiddies… _


	72. Chapter 72: Christmas Morning

Sessions 72: Christmas Morning

_A/N: Enjoy…_

Cate opened one eye and immediately closed it upon being blinded by the bright sunlight streaming into the room from the open French doors. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she looked around. House was not in bed and a momentary lapse of alarm washed over her until her pupils dilated enough to see him still in just his jammie pants leaning casually on the railing of their balcony looking out over the ocean. This was two mornings in a row that she had slept past him, long enough for him to actually be up and out of bed. She had apparently slipped into a coma when she came up to bed last night because she hadn't heard him come in, change or get into bed at all. Normally she could at least sense his presence enough to smile at him and roll over and go back to sleep when he came home late, but she must have been truly wiped out last night. All of the fresh air and sun must be doing their job to completely relax her.

She rolled over and looked at the bedside clock. It was 8:30. Wow, and he was up early again. Cate looked back out towards the balcony at him. He didn't look like anything was wrong or bothering him. His shoulders were relaxed and his foot of his bad leg was crossed backwards over the ankle of his other. There wasn't a line of tension anywhere to be found. Maybe the fresh air and sun had the reverse effect on him. He looked comfortably rumpled and tan and oh so very sexy standing out there in the morning sunshine. She was about to wrap herself in the sheet and go out to meet him but he pushed off the railing, causing the muscles in his back to ripple just so and she bit down firmly on her lip with a little groan. He turned and limped back into the room. Even his limp was less pronounced. Dare she say he was peaceful? It took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the bright light of outside to the dimmer light in the room before he noticed that she was awake. A little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth in his trademark lopsided grin. He just stood there and watched her for a long moment.

Cate sat up, tucking the sheet around her chest and ran her hand through her hair waking herself up. She rarely ever slept in the nude but it was so warm here that they could leave the door open and still be comfortable enough with the heat of his body next to hers and just the sheet covering them. It was kind of sexy, and actually quite nice.

"Good morning, " he said as he came to sit next to her kissing her gently on the lips, his hand comfortably resting on her thigh.

Cate smiled and draped her arms around his neck, losing her sheet in the process. "Good morning."

"Did you sleep well, " he asked.

"Yeah, I guess I was really tired, " she said making a frown.

He nodded with a little smile. "How about your headache?"

She shrugged. It seemed to be gone. "Yeah, I just needed some sleep. That's all." He grinned again and Cate felt a little off balance. "What are you so happy about?"

"Nothing, " he said running his hand over her leg. "It's Christmas Morning."

"That it is." She had almost forgotten. It was easy to not associate Christmas here. The weather alone was enough to make her forget entirely that New Jersey was probably bitter cold and maybe even covered in a light snow. Never mind the fact that she wasn't with her family who usually decorated with all the traditional trimmings of poinsettias, fir garlands and a tree complete with and angel on top. To her, it wasn't really Christmas without them. But that was ok, she was here with him and for this year, that was good enough for her.

There was a knock on the door and House automatically moved to get up.

"Who could that be at 8:30 in the morning?" Cate asked hoping that it wasn't Wilson and Cuddy. She wasn't decent.

"I ordered breakfast, " he said and then pointed at her. "You wanna not share my goods with everyone?"

"Get me a shirt." Cate flashed him a look and tugged up the sheet tucking it around her as she leaned back against the pillows and the headboard. "You feeling industrious today?"

"Yeah, something like that, " he said as he reached in his bag and tossed her one of his t-shirts before he limped over and opened the door. Cate quickly pulled the shirt over her head. She laughed. It was The Who shirt. _Nice_.

A waiter in a clean aqua polo shirt and white pants wheeled in a cart covered in a white table cloth with quite a few silver dome covered items and a single red rose. House plucked the flower from the budvase as the man passed bringing it to his nose to smell it before giving her a wink and a devilish smile.

The waiter lifted a tray out from the bottom of the cart and unfolded squat little legs and placed the tray squarely over her lap. She looked to him and then at House, questioningly.

"Breakfast in bed, " House replied. "Just put the other one on the end of the bed, " he instructed indicating where he meant. The server nodded and made fast work of depositing their covered plates on the trays, complete with mimosas and fresh, ruby red strawberries. He folded his napkin over his arm as if her were a waiter at a five star restaurant and bowed to both of them. "Merry Christmas, enjoy."

"Thank you," Cate said completely bemused by the lavish treatment and that the man she called, Greg, had arranged it. The waiter was gone in a flash and she stared at House in amazement. "Who are you and what is all this about?"

He came over to sit back on the bed leaning carefully on his elbow so as not to jostle the trays. Extending the rose, he brushed the velvety soft petals down her nose and cheek following a path under her chin and across her bare throat. He sniffed it one more time and then held it out to her to take. She grasped the delicate stem from his fingers and brought it back to her own nose to smell the sweetness inside.

"This has to be the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, " she told him.

He smiled shyly and shrugged. "I took you away from everything on Christmas, I figured it's the least I could do."

She put her hand on his face and smiled at him lovingly. "Don't let anyone ever say you don't know how to treat a girl right."

"That's what I have you for, " he said with a wry grin. "The pure fact that you're with me is my proof."

Cate's smile grew larger. "So what'd you order? I'm starving."

He raised his eyebrows. "I don't know check it out."

"It smells really good, " she said sniffing at the heat coming from the covered plate. "It smells like bacon."

He stared at her and rolled his eyes. "Just open it, " he ordered in exasperation. "You'd think you were discovering the Holy Grail."

Curious, she made a little face at him lifted the metal covering off of the plate. "Pancakes and bacon and…." She gasped and dropped the lid. He leaned over and caught it before it hit the floor. "Oh my god!" She covered her face with her hands and let out a strangled scream. "Oh my GOD!"

Confused she looked at him, but realized she couldn't see him because of the tears in her eyes. Sniffling, she swiped at her eyes and looked back to her plate to make sure that she did indeed see it there right in the middle of her fluffy pancake. A ring. An antique, platinum diamond ring.

The tears welled again and she fanned her face with her hands. She was speechless. In fact, she couldn't even remember her name.

Without a sound, he had deposited the fallen lid somewhere and reached out to take the ring off of her pancake. He held it up with his long fingers for her to look at. His hand was shaking and she felt a new wave of tears come over her. Grasping his hand between her two she pulled him close to her. She grabbed his face and peppered him with kisses. "Yes. Yes. A million times, Yes!"

He swallowed and let out a shuddering breath. "I didn't even say anything yet…" his voice sounded like a shy little boy's.

She laughed nervously and put her hand over her mouth. "I…Oh Greg. I'm sorry. I got excited. I'm so sorry." And then she started to cry again, feeling terrible for stealing his thunder.

He held her head between his hands still holding onto the ring with his fingers. He laughed at her and pulled her close touching his lips to hers. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "At least we're sitting down this time and I won't go crashing into a table."

She hiccupped on a laugh remembering how she had fallen into him when he surprised her with the World Series tickets. It _was_ a good thing they were sitting down, because she was trembling all over. Opening his eyes, he looked down and noticed The Who shirt and let out a rueful sigh and shook his head. He looked heavenward and muttered. "Oh, the irony…" He tried to frown but it turned back up into a smile. "I knew the minute I let you wear that shirt that life as I knew it was over. And since the Who haven't actually broken up from the whole 'girlfriend wearing the band shirt debacle', I think that means… you have to marry me."

Tears streaming down her face, Cate bit her lip and waited to make sure he was finished. She sniffled.

There was a pause and his eyebrows came together for a second and then raised to high peaks. He looked at her, his eyes big and wide. "You can answer me now."

"Yes, yes, yes, " she said elatedly. "Yes, I will marry you."

He let out a huge sigh of relief. "Good. Let's eat I'm starving."

She waved her at hand excitedly him. "My ring?"

"Oh, right, " he said with an exaggerated grimace. He took her hand in his and slid the engagement ring onto her finger. "Perfect."

She sighed breathlessly. "It's so beautiful." Holding her hand up in front of her face she admired the delicate filigree work of the setting that held a rather large diamond. She tilted her hand and the gem sparkled back at her twinkling in the facets of the princess cut. She swore she'd never be _that woman_… the one that gushed over the size of the diamond, but damn if it wasn't over a carat.

"It was my grandmother's, " he told her.

"Oh Greg, " she started to cry all over again and he pulled her into a tight embrace amused by her over-wrought emotions. She pulled away from him suddenly. "Oh my God. I have to call my father!"

"He knows already, " he told her taking a piece of bacon from her plate.

"What?" she exclaimed. "You told him?!"

"Yeah, the man carries a gun, " he stated as if she were obtuse. "I'm not an idiot."

"Your mother too?"

He nodded. "She cried. Apparently it's a chick thing."

"I have to call him anyway, " she said reaching over to the nightstand but her grasped her hand with his.

He softened his look and held her hand, trapping it between his own. "No. We're going to eat breakfast before our food gets cold and then I'm going to thoroughly ravish you at least a couple of times. You can call him later."

Her breath caught in her throat. The intensity in his blue eyes threw her off balance. She was mesmerized by him, but then again she always was. This man who was going to be her husband. Never in a million year would she have thought…Her husband. _Now that had a nice ring to it._

_A/N: Oh but wait… there's more…_


	73. Chapter 73: Christmas Bells

Sessions 73: Christmas Bells

"I can't believe he's not answering his phone, " Cate said defeatedly as she clicked the end button on her blackberry.

House shrugged. "Maybe he's making a deposit at the ol' banco de colon." She looked at him confused not totally paying attention to him. "You know, taking a crap."

Cate rolled her eyes and sighed. She pushed the track ball to light up her phone screen again. It was almost eleven in the morning. "Maybe he's at church?"

"Or there…" House added optimistically. "It is Christmas. I think that's where they get the _Chris_ in _Christ_mas. You know from Christ, son of God, supposed maker of all things wholly and demander of going to church lest yee rot in hell for all eternity…"

"Ok. I get it, " she groused. The glimmer from her ring caught her eye again and she smiled, all frustration of not being able to contact her father slipping away on the breeze. She still couldn't believe it. Gregory House had asked her to marry him. She was flabbergasted, no better yet, astounded. He who hadn't been in a relationship in almost ten years; he who didn't trust anyone enough to let them get close; he who had been a self-proclaimed lone wolf destined to live the rest of his life in bitter solitude had asked her to marry him. Marriage was a bond of commitment that regular, ordinary people partook in, not him. It was conventional, trite. Normal. It was enough to shift the world off its axis because it most certainly had shifted hers.

"It is a diamond, it _will_ last forever, " he teased dryly. It had to be the twentieth time he found her staring at the ring. Truth be told, those were only the times when he caught her, there had to be another fifty times he hadn't. "It is real, it isn't all a dream."

"I know. It's just so pretty." She reached across the small space that separated them and squeezed his hand. They were under a cabana sitting in two large wicker chairs overlooking the ocean on the boardwalk pier that extended past the resort shoreline. He was relaxing lazily with his bare feet up on the ottoman. He looked extremely comfortable in his untucked, white button down and baggy khaki pants, his hair ruffling lightly in the warm breeze. He was completely and utterly relaxed here. The lines of tension that were usually present in his face were gone. She had practically seen them melt away in the hours after they arrived. He needed this vacation so badly. He needed this place to rejuvenate and become whole again. He was decidedly at peace with himself, and that Cate knew was a long time coming.

Earlier that morning after breakfast and some serious lovemaking, they had agreed to meet Wilson and Cuddy out here on the pier so they could tell them their big news. The other couple had gone down to the main dining room for a late breakfast and said they'd be there shortly afterwards. Cate tucked her bare feet under the hem of her long white cotton skirt and picked up her phone to dial her father again. Her hair tickled against her bare shoulders exposed by the matching halter tank top she was wearing. She herself, felt comfortable and relaxed peaceful in the knowledge that she would forver be bound to this man whom she loved so dearly.

"Did you leave him a voice mail, " he asked. "He'll call you back."

"I know, " she said sheepishly. "This is the most important day of my life so far. I just want to tell him about it."

"He'll call you back, " he repeated gently reassuring her.

She rested her chin on her hand and looked out at the clear blue waves. "What do you think Wilson and Cuddy are going to say?"

"I don't know, " he said quietly staring out to sea. "Wilson will be pissed I didn't tell him first."

"I'm sure he'll get over it, " she said with a laugh. "Lisa will think it's great. We've talked a lot the past couple of days. All she ever wants for you is to see you happy."

"Yeah well, now she's going to have to stop trying to get me naked at all those hospital fundraisers she makes me go to, " he said. " My wife won't like it."

A little shiver went down deep into her belly. _His wife_. Still unbelievable…."No, _your wife_ will be busy getting you naked."

He chuckled and looked at her with a smile. "Sounds weird but nice."

She beamed at him. "It does."

_Bad boys, bad boys, whachya gonna do… whachya gonna do when they come for you…_

Cate jumped excitedly. "He's calling…"

"Oh, goodie…" he mocked her and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Hi, Dad, where have you been I've been calling all morning, " she said quickly not even giving him a chance to say hello.

She could hear him laughing on the other end. "_Hi sweetheart. Merry Christmas_."

"Merry Christmas to you too, " she said contritely. He always had a way of making her feel like a little girl.

"_I assume you have some good news,_ " he surmised which wasn't even a real guess at all considering he knew the punch line already.

"Yes, Dad, oh yes, " she said excitedly. "I can't wait to get back to show you. It's so beautiful."

"_I'm happy for you Catie girl_, " he told her. "_I only wish your mother could be here to see it."_

Cate's eyes welled up with tears. She swallowed down the pain of losing her mother, knowing how happy she would be for her only daughter getting finally getting married. "Mom would have loved it."

House reached over and squeezed her fingers running his hand comfortingly along her forearm. She took in a shuddering breath to calm herself. God, she was so emotional today.

"_Everyone sends their love,_ " he said joyfully. "_They are so happy for you_."

"Tell them, thank you and that I miss them, " she said. "We'll see them sometime soon, so Greg can meet everyone." House made a face and mouthed _'Can't wait._' Cate ignored him and continued. "I miss you so much Dad."

"_I miss you too Catie girl_, " he said replied. His voice was echoing in the phone and Cate made a frustrated sigh. They weren't in the best cell area.

"Dad you're breaking up, " she said.

"_Really_?"

"Yeah, " she said.

"_Maybe I'm getting feedback_, " he said his voice really starting to echo. "_I wonder if it's because…"_

"Dad," she paused and looked at House who had a weird look on his face. It didn't sound like regular cell disturbance. "Dad?"

"Yes, baby?"

Cate froze and then swiveled around in her chair. Her father was standing right behind her. On the pier here in Jamaica with is arms outstretched to her. Her heart squeezed. He was with Blythe and Wilson and Cuddy.

She brought her hand to her gaping mouth. "Oh my God!" Lunging out of the chair she rounded it and he caught her in a big bear hug. And she started to cry. Again.

Her father laughed a deep chuckle that reverberated in his barrel chest and ran his hand down the back of her hair soothingly. "Congratulations, sweetheart. I _am_ here to see it." She pulled back from him wiping at her eyes, they were beginning to become tender from all of the tears she'd shed so far today. He took her hand in his to look at her ring. "It's beautiful, honey."

When she stepped away from her father, Blythe approached her with her arms outstretched. "Oh my dear, this is the happiest day of my life."

Cate felt the woman send forth all of her love and affection for her in her warm embrace. His mother whispered in her ear, "I knew you were the one to heal him." Cate smiled at her, holding back more tears. Deep in her heart it made her feel good that that was indeed the truth.

Her father shook House's hand and clapped him on the back. "Well done, son."

House nodded. His mother released Cate and took her son's face between her hands. "You have made me so very happy. I am so proud of you." He shuffled like a little boy under his mother's touch. Cate loved that he, the arrogant, prickly, sarcastic man, could be reduced to a shy little boy by his mother. It made him all the more endearing to her.

Cate looked at Cuddy who had bright tears in her eyes. She went over to her friend and hugged her. "You knew?"

"I only found out last night, " she told her. "I was in charge of keeping the parents occupied."

Wilson shook House's hand firmly. House grinned cheekily at his best friend. "You can hug me if you want, Jimmy. I know you want to."

Lisa laughed covering her face with her hand and Wilson bear hugged House clapping him heartily on the back. "Lucy, you have a lot of 'splainin to do."

"In good time, Ricky, " House said with a chuckle.

Wilson released House and gave Cate a hug. "He doesn't deserve you."

"Yes, he does, " Cate told him and he smiled, knowing it was true. He only said it to keep up appearances.

Just then a tall thin Jamaican woman in a white concierge suit approached them a man in a crisp linen shirt following her. "Is everyone ready?"

"Ready? For what, " Cate asked looking around to see if anyone else knew what the woman was talking about.

"We're all here, " House said to her.

Cate looked at him and then she looked at Cuddy. Only then did she realize that Cuddy was in a brightly printed flowing sundress holding a large bouquet of flowers. Cate turned back to House confused. He couldn't possibly mean…today?!

He nodded at her and her world tilted on its axis for the third time today. "Today?"

"Today, " he stated.

"Right now?"

"Right now."

Cate grabbed for the back of the chair for support. Her father stepped close to her and braced her with his strong arm. "I need to sit down, " she said and he guided her back to the seat of the chair.

House kneeled down awkwardly in front of her and took her hands into his. He brought her knuckles to his lips and searched her with his piercing blue eyes. "I wasted so much time. I don't want to waste anymore. I want you to be my wife."

Cate touched her hand to the side of his face and her heart swelled with pure joy. She couldn't believe that she could love him anymore than she already did. He was everything that she could have ever dreamed of or ever hoped for. His love and tenderness was once something that he only showed to her and now he wanted to announce it to the world. She looked around at the people standing near them. Everyone that they cared deeply about was there. Except for the ducklings… "What about Thirteen and Foreman, Kutner, Taub?"

"It'll be more fun to mess with their heads when we get back, " he said eliciting a groan from Wilson.

Cate nodded with a smile. Who was she to deprive him of his prankish antics at work?

"Everyone we need is right here, " he said.

"I love you so much, " she told him.

He smiled at her and she could see the rest of her life in the depths of his crystal blue eyes.

Rising from the chair, she swiped at her eyes once again and pushed her hair back out of her face. "Alright. Let's do this."

House rose from the boardwalk and limped without his cane over to where the preacher stood by the railing overlooking the serene ocean. It was a picturesque as any wedding scene. Wilson took his place by House's side as his best friend and best man. The two friends looked at each other and shared a smiled between them knowing that this was about as momentous at it came.

Cuddy helped Cate fix her hair and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue that had miraculously appeared. Once she was satisfied that Cate was as beautiful as ever, she handed her the bouquet of white sweet peas and calla lilies. She hugged her briefly and then stood by her side as her maid of honor.

Mom and Dad linked arms leaning on each other for shared support each with a tear in their eye as they watched their grown, fiercely independent children get married. It was a joyous moment that made their hearts swell with undying pride. It had finally happened. Dr. Gregory House and Dr. Cate Milton were hitched.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House shaped his mouth into an O and blew puffs of smoke out over his head into the air. The rich heady aroma of the cigar swirled around him and mixed with the sweet smell Jamaican rum in his glass. Wilson and Don sat across the table from him equally as content with their cigars and their liquor.

"Cubans, you just can't get them as good as this, " Don said from behind a cloud of smoke.

"I've got a two cases in my suitcase, " Wilson said. "Cuddy's upset because her shoes won't fit. I told her I'd buy her a new pair."

House shook his head. He had three cases stashed in his suitcase himself. He would have preferred the good Jamaican pot, but he was done with drugs and getting high. _For the most part_…. _A little Vicodin now and then was still a necessity._ He looked over to the women. They were standing by the table that held their small wedding cake. Cuddy and Cate were laughing about something as his mother cut another piece. They looked radiant and voluptuous and so incredibly beautiful. Both of them.

He let out another puff of smoke. "We're in a lot of trouble, Jimmy boy."

Wilson drew his eyebrows together and looked at him. "Why?"

"Because in about seven months, you and I are going to have to buy a bigger house, " he said.

"What are you talking about, " Wilson stared at him. Don raised an eyebrow confused as well.

"Look at them, glowing skin, extra large hips, heaving swelling bosoms, " he listed. "Headaches, tiredness." He leveled his stare at Wilson. "They're pregnant."

Wilson laughed. "You can't possibly tell that from here."

"Do you know me, " House said offended. He of all people should revere his mad diagnostic skills. "I can smell it on a woman a mile away. Although it took me while to figure it out with Cate. Cuddy I knew a week before we left."

"They're both pregnant?" Don was flabbergasted.

"A week ago? And you didn't think to tell me, " Wilson said incredulously.

"I wasn't sure until I felt her ass, " he said puffing on his cigar.

"You felt her ass!" Wilson sat forward.

"Purely diagnostic, " he claimed with a grin. "Baby got bigger back." He wiggled his eyebrows at him and flashed him a lecherous grin.

"She's really pregnant, " Wilson repeated wistfully as he turned to look at Cuddy over his shoulder.

"Well I wouldn't totally believe me, you have to do a blood test, duh, " he said. "Did you get your med degree out of a Cracker Jack box?" Wilson completely ignored him and continued to stare dumbfound at the future mother of his child.

"I'm going to be a grandfather, " Don said getting choked up.

"Most likely, " House nodded.

"But you said Cate was on the pill, " Wilson said turning back to him.

House shrugged. "Stomach flu before Thanksgiving. She must have either thrown it up or forgot to take it."

"Wow, " Wilson muttered.

House nodded. "Wow is right."

"You are going to need a bigger house, " Don said with a chuckle.

House frowned and was resigned to the fact that yes, indeed, his life would have to change a little bit more in the coming months. He had a wife now. And possibly a baby on the way. But _that_ was an entirely new story to be told…

The End


End file.
